


Unconditional

by Zoe_Dameron



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brainwashing, Captivity, Death, Electrocution, Eventual Happy Ending, Execution, Happy Ending, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Child Abuse, Poe Dameron hurts so pretty, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reconditioning, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:45:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoe_Dameron/pseuds/Zoe_Dameron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe is turned into a Stormtrooper.</p><p>From two prompts:<br/>1) http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3961.html?thread=9461625#cmt9461625<br/>2) https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3961.html?thread=8764793#cmt8764793</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A crack of thunder rolling through the sky above him woke Finn from another nightmare. Laying on his back in his bunk, he stared out the skylight and tried to calm his breathing. He had been dreaming about Starkiller again, of course.

Watching Rey’s body being thrown into the air and crashing to the ground. Trying to hold his own against a Knight of Ren. The pain of a lightsaber burn. The lightsaber burn _still_ hurt, actually, which didn’t do much to help the nightmares.

Lightning flashed outside, and Finn counted.

_1… breathe in…_

_2…_

_3… breathe out…_

_4…_

_5… breathe in…_

Thunder. The storm was getting closer, and Finn felt small. He wanted to sleep in Poe’s room tonight, because that always made him feel better and Poe never minded.

Finn hopped off his bunk and trudged into the hallway separating their rooms. He was slightly concerned when he saw the door to Poe’s room was open a crack. Peering into the room didn’t help as it was 02:00 in the morning and everything on base was dark.

“ _…Poe?_ ” he whispered, knocking on the door slightly.

No response.

Finn was worried; Poe hadn’t mentioned staying elsewhere and he always told Finn if he was planning on being off-planet. Especially at night. He didn’t want to be rude but worry pushed him to open Poe’s door and turn on his bedroom light.

The first thing he noticed was that Poe wasn’t there.

The second thing he noticed was that there was blood on Poe’s pillow. Only a little. Patting it with his finger, he saw the blood was fresh.

Finn felt the air around him grow heavy as anxiety welled up in his chest. _Where was Poe? Did something happen to him? Is he hurt?_ His thoughts were cut short by a hard knocking sound coming from behind Poe’s desk. When BB-8 realized it was just Finn he shot out, zooming lop-sidedly around Poe’s room. He looked like he had a large indent in one side of him, and he was beeping wildly to Finn.

“BB-8 where is Poe?! I don’t… listen, stop! I don’t understand Binary very well yet, can you just… _slow down?_ ”

BB-8 beeped affirmatively.

“Okay, now… do you know what happened to Poe?”

Another affirmative beep. He rolled to the middle of the room and began projecting a holovid, and Finn watched in rapt horror.

“…We have to get General Organa. NOW.”

\---

BB-8 had buzzed General Organa’s room directly, asking her to come to the Comms station, that it was an emergency. All of Finn and BB-8’s clanging around the base had woken a few other officers and pilots up, and they all gathered in the station to find out what the crisis was.

“Finn, it’s 02:30, what’s the meaning of –”

“Poe’s gone. Somebody took him. They hurt him and we need to find him. How soon can we get ships in the air?”

“Whoa, Finn, slow down, slow down… How do you know someone has taken Poe?”

“BB-8, show her.”

The droid’s recording is dark, but Leia can mostly make out the scene: Two people, standing over Poe’s bed as he slept. They look young, familiar. Without warning, one punches him in the head, waking him up, while the other one holds his ankles down. Before he’s able to fight back, the taller one slips a hood over his head and keeps punching him in the face until he stops squirming. They turn him over and bind his wrists. The taller one throws Poe’s body over his shoulder on his way out the door, while the shorter one notices BB-8 on his charging station. He delivers a brutal kick to BB-8s frame before the droid rolls to safety behind the desk.

Several people in the room cover their mouths in shock, but Leia isn’t wasting any time. She comms directly with the security team to ask for surveillance footage from around Poe’s bunk following the time stamp of BB-8’s holo. Within minutes they send her what she’s looking for.

The two kidnappers, identified as the Resistance’s most recent recruits, carry Poe’s body through the base and out to the hangar. There is an unfamiliar utility speeder waiting for them. They load the unconscious pilot into the back and speed off into the night.

“KRIFFING DAMMIT.” The characteristically cool-under-pressure General Organa pounded her fist on the table in frustration. The room has gone quiet in response. “Captain Wexley, gather a team to search Poe’s room for anything you can find that would help us identify why these two recruits would do something like this.”

Snap’s nearly out the door by the time she finishes. “Yes ma’am!”

“Pava, cordon off the outside area shown in the surveillance footage so we can search it the minute the sun rises. Clear?”

“Yes, General!”

Leia is clearly taking Poe’s abduction personally, but she nods knowingly at Finn from across the room. She can tell he’s distraught, even more than she is, and she can see the tears holding at the edge of his eyes. They both want him back.

The only problem is they have no idea where to start looking.

\---

“Commander Poe Dameron.”

Poe wrestles himself awake at the sound of his name, and he finds he can’t breathe out of his nose. His entire face hurts and feels swollen in areas. His hands are tied behind his back, and the floor he’s sitting on is a cold, hard durasteel. There is a man in front of him, just beyond the bars keeping him locked in. His hair is a wild red and he has a harsh, stern face. Poe can tell he doesn’t smile often, as he’s trying to smile condescendingly at the pilot but it’s coming across as a sneer at best.

“My name is General Hux. Pleasure to finally meet you. Welcome to Reconditioning.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux delights in his new recruit.

“How are you finding your accommodations, Commander?”

The room was frigid and the metallic tang of blood hung in the air, though Poe wasn’t sure if the odor was coming from the cell or from the dried blood in his nose. Responding to the General was too much effort; he could barely breathe, let alone concentrate on firing back quips that would likely land him in a worse situation. Poe rolled his eyes to the best of his ability as he struggled to keep his vision from spinning.

“Where are those deadpan Dameron retorts I’ve heard so much about? Did it really only take a few blows and a short lock up to ground this pilot? How interesting.”

At the mention of a ‘short lock up’ Poe turned his head to look at Hux, confused.

The General smiled back, having chosen that phrasing deliberately. “Oh, rest assured you’ll be staying with us for quite some time. Reconditioning is a rather lengthy process, which I’m sure you’ll enjoy. You just won’t be kept here. We’ll be moving you to your more permanent lodging as soon as a spot becomes available, so don’t get too comfortable.”

Poe couldn’t tell if his silence was amusing the General or making him angrier. The man’s face was expressive but simultaneously cryptic.

“You know, if you don’t mind me saying so, your face is much more pleasant to look at in its current state. I’m somewhat sad that we’ll have to set that broken nose of yours; the process involves a gag and a whole manner of other restrictions, and… I won’t bore you with details for now, but I’d be _loath_ to lose you before we’re finished.”

Mustering up what remained of his defiance, Poe spit at the General, managing to get a bit on his crisp, black leather boots.

Hux’s smile left his eyes. “I’ll see that you regret that, pilot.”

He nodded his head at two of the Stormtroopers flanking him, motioning them towards where Dameron was sitting. As they entered his cell he struggled fruitlessly to back away from them, unable to do so before they pinned him on his back, each holding him down with a foot pressed against his chest. Poe’s arms, still bound behind him, screamed in agony as they were crushed between the increasing weight pushing on his body and the cold, hard floor. He thought he felt a finger or two snap underneath him.

The General entered his cell and knelt down by Poe’s face, taking a minute to drink in the sounds he made as he tried to writhe free. Seemingly satisfied, he grabbed Poe by the hair and turned his head away from him.

“I know it’s against your nature, but stop _resisting_ ” Hux growled, lifting Poe by the hair and slamming him down on his ear. Dazed, the pilot stilled.

“You have been a tremendous pain in the First Order’s side for too long, Commander Dameron. The map, your escape with one of our most promising Stormtroopers, the attacks you led on Takodana and Starkiller base, which I heard your squad single-handedly infiltrated and destroyed…” Hux was seething, as if each had been an affront to him personally. To Poe’s surprise, the grip in his hair was released.

Hux stood, staring down at the pilot who had turned cautiously to look at him. “Did the traitor ever explain to you what ‘reconditioning’ is?”

From the floor, Poe shook his head slightly, not wanting to aggravate the General further.

“Reconditioning is what we do when a Stormtrooper is broken but worth… _fixing_. It’s a very personal experience, unique to each soldier.” He turned to one of the men holding Poe down. “FN-4729, would you kindly remove your helmet?”

“Sir.” FN-4729 did as he was told, lifting off his shiny white helmet to reveal a massively scarred face underneath. His left eye was missing, having been replaced by a crude-looking bionic version.

“FN-4729, explain to our new recruit how you lost your eye.”

“Sir. I mistakenly allowed FN-2187 to remove this Resistance pilot from custody.”

“And did you receive any anesthetic before your eye was removed and replaced?”

“No, sir.”

“Will you ever take liberties like that again?”

“No, sir. I live to serve the First Order. I will never again act without confirmation from a First Order officer, sir.”

“Thank you, FN-4729. You may replace your helmet.”

The Stormtrooper did as he was told, once again focusing all of his effort on keeping Poe pinned to the ground. Hux had returned to kneel by the pilot’s face, hand once again tangling in his hair.

“I’m very excited for you, Commander. Your skills will make a wonderful addition in our fight against the Resistance.”

Against his better judgment, Poe mustered the strength to speak, barking back, “Go to hell. I’d rather die than fight for you.”

Hux beamed, clapping his hands together as he stood to leave, directing the Stormtroopers with him.

“You just can’t help yourself, and I love it. This will likely be the most enjoyable reconditioning I’ve had the pleasure of overseeing.” He stepped out of the cell, allowing the door to lock behind him. Poe pulled his body up, returning to a seated position on the floor. “Get as much sleep as you can, Commander. There’s no telling when you’ll get to sleep again once the process starts.”

Poe watched as the General waved a goodbye to him before leaving with the Stormtroopers, the door making a heavy thud as it closed behind them.

He felt helpless, in pain. He thought of Finn and how strong he must have been to survive the First Order. He wondered if he’d ever fly again.

He sat in complete silence for a few more hours before finally allowing himself to rest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn didn’t much like to talk about his experiences as a Stormtrooper, and Poe had never pushed it.
> 
>  
> 
> _Now they’d both have stories to tell._

It wasn’t long before Poe saw the familiar white shine of Stormtrooper armor again, coming to collect him for some unknown reason. They wrenched him up and out of his cell, dragging him without a care for the pain radiating out of every nerve in his arms and face. He considered asking them questions but thought better of it; that maybe at some future point in time, when or _if_ he hurt less, he’d press his luck.

His escorts finally stopped at what Poe assumed to be a medical center. The inside was a bustle of very stern people in medical masks and scrubs who gestured at the Stormtroopers to move Poe to one side of the room where he was promptly stripped by two older personnel, his modesty once again sidelined in favor of just getting through whatever this was with the least amount of new pain.

Poe was naked but uncuffed, and grateful to regain use of his arms. He found his gratitude short-lived as a woman approached and ordered the Stormtroopers to once again restrain him. He tried to struggle as much as he could, thrashing and kicking his legs out in front of him, but nothing could stop the woman from sliding a thin tube through his nose and down his throat. Poe could feel the broken cartilage in his nose sear with pain to the point where he almost blacked out. The woman slapped his face, _hard_ , and commanded him to stay awake.

He didn’t have long to register the audacity of her request before he was dragged forward again, this time towards a large tank in the center of the room.

Bacta?

Poe remembered Hux saying something about setting his broken nose, but he was surprised to see that the rest of him was going to be healed, too. It seemed like a sliver of decency from the First Order for only a fleeting moment, before Poe realized they didn’t intend to sedate him through the procedure; Bacta tank submersion worked best on unconscious patients, as conscious patients struggle to acclimate to breathing the fluid. Some early subjects described the sensation as ‘drowning without death’.

Finally allowing himself to panic, Poe withered against the strong arms dragging him up the scaffolding to the large tank filled with liquid, earning himself a sharp, immobilizing jolt of electricity against his lower back. Dazed, he was surrounded by medical staff who attached sensors and various other equipment to him before lowering him in.

Poe fought against the fluid as it ran down his throat and coated his lungs. Swimming to the top of the tank was useless, as they had closed a lid over it. Ignoring his broken fingers, he tried to bang against the side of the tank, pleading with the medical staff who stood there watching him, expressionless.

After nearly an hour fighting against the sensation of drowning, his body surrendered from exhaustion and Poe finally passed out.

\---

It was five more days before the First Order found space for him in the Reconditioning Center. He had not seen Hux since the first day he was taken, and he had begun to wonder if the General was bluffing. The Bacta tank had healed his injuries, even the self-inflicted ones he had caused during his struggle in the tank itself, and Poe was feeling relatively good, physically. They had given him back his clothes, too.

His mind still wandered back to Finn and General Organa and his friends and the Resistance. He didn’t know if more had been taken or what had happened that night, and he feared the rest of them could be stuck on this base with him. Hux had made this treatment seem personal, but Poe couldn’t bring himself to trust anything that man told him. He hoped he was the only one in this situation.

Most of all, he hoped Finn was okay.

Poe had been impressed by and indebted to the Stormtrooper the minute that helmet came off and Finn had whispered, “ _This is a rescue. I’m helping you escape_.” Finn looked nervous, sure, but there was a giddy kind of risk in his eyes; he had seen what was expected of him and decided to give life a try instead. Poe had always, _always_ thought of Finn as strong, but after his time in First Order hands he was surprised someone like Finn had survived here as long as he could. Finn didn’t much like to talk about his experiences as a Stormtrooper, and Poe had never pushed it.

 _Now they’d both have stories to tell_ , he thought to himself. The idea of it was like a punch in the gut.

On the afternoon of his fifth day alone, two Stormtroopers entered his cell, recuffed him, and grabbed him by his arms. Poe followed obediently, sick with himself for not fighting back, but realistic about his situation; he didn’t know where they were, if they were planet-side or tumbling though space, and an escape attempt would likely end with him dead or worse.

He was escorted down several dimly-lit hallways until they finally stopped in front of a large, black, window-less door. The two troopers took turns securing him while the other removed their helmet. Poe was horrified to see they too had been through some kind of version of this reconditioning process, their faces scarred deeply. One was missing an ear. They both held a calm, vacant expression that refused to fix on anything but the objective. Both were young, possibly still teenagers. Poe didn’t understand why they had removed their helmets but the sight of the destruction they had been subjected to and their age left a pit in his stomach. Getting to know Finn had given Poe a general feeling of sympathy for Stormtroopers; any one of them could be some nice kid who didn’t actually want to be part of the First Order. Above all, they were _people_. From everything he’d seen at the Reconditioning Center, he genuinely felt bad for each of them.

The three of them stood outside the door for several minutes before Poe heard a loud blaring mix of a fog horn and an emergency alarm from the other side. This had apparently been what the Stormtroopers were waiting for, as they pulled open the heavy door and led him inside.

The room was extremely bright, well-lit to the point of nearly blinding him, and far colder than the cell he had been kept in up until that point. There was nothing immediately in front of them as they entered, only long hallways stretching to the left and right. Each hallway was filled with what looked like wide lockers with small windows and numbered plates in front of each. Poe was pulled to the left and led down a few dozen feet until reaching a locker with no numbered plate on the front of it.

Upon being shoved inside, Poe was shocked to find the how cramped the interior was, with dimensions around 6 feet tall, 2 feet wide, and 2 feet deep. It reminded him of a coffin.

His hands were not uncuffed before they closed the door on him, and he watched them leave through a small window on the door directly in front of him. With growing horror Poe realized that this was his accommodation through the reconditioning process. He’d be stuck in this cramped locker until they were done with him.

He cried and screamed through panicked breaths for hours, stopping only when the loud noise from earlier returned and he had to cover his ears from the pain of it. Poe noticed the lights would change intensity and the noise would go off at untrack-able intervals. There was no room to lay or even crouch down, nowhere to find a comfortable position off his feet. He remembered General Hux telling him to sleep while he still could.

His reconditioning had begun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip in the woods, followed by some First Order home movies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized while writing this that it's probably going to be super long. I'm just strolling through this reconditioning like there's all the time in the world. Sorry about that.
> 
> But if you were worried I had no ideas for this (like I was), fear not - there's a complete outline now! Also some mild Stormpilot, because I can't help myself with those two.
> 
> I apologize for all the brutality of this chapter. I'll add tags to warn backpackers. May the 4th be with you. <3

_D’Qar was Poe’s favorite Resistance base so far – definitely a sight better than the two months they had spent on Hoth. He loved the long, rolling green hills, loved the way the thunderstorms shook the base with their ferocity, loved the glowing Yffri flowers that bloomed only at dawn. When he could catch a break from rotation and social obligations, he’d sneak out and aimlessly wander through the wooded area just outside of the main hangar. There was a mossy knoll a short trek north and, if he had the luxury of time and luck on his side, he’d sit there in silence until nature relaxed around him again; the small woodland creatures would slowly resume their daily routine after a while, and it reminded Poe of home back on Yavin IV._

_Poe liked to keep this time with nature to himself. He enjoyed having a place to retreat to where he could be alone with his thoughts and just feel the world as it breathed around him. When things had calmed down a bit after Starkiller, Finn was eager to stretch out and explore with Poe. All of a sudden, Poe’s private place became somewhere he wanted to share with Finn. Finn, whose friendship meant more to him than a million blooming Yffri flowers. The kid had missed so much in his life, he thought. He wanted to show him how beautiful the world could be._

_Though he was supposed to be their guide, Poe let Finn lead them on a path he was beating for himself. Finn felt no shame every time he stopped to gawk at a new kind of tree or fern or bird, soliciting the name from Poe as the pilot desperately flipped through pages of the Resistance’s D’Qar field manual trying to keep up with every new question. He laughed openly whenever Finn accidentally led them into a muddy area, which was several times more than once. By the time they reached Poe’s favorite spot they were both nearly soaked up to their knees in mud. Poe moved to sit down on the soft moss, stopping himself as he watched Finn for a moment. The former Stormtrooper had closed his eyes, bathing himself the rays of sun that had cracked through from the wooded canopy. He followed the easy smile that crept up to Finn’s cheeks, finding himself wearing one to match. The woods were silent, save for the distant chirps of birds Finn had probably already asked Poe about._

_Poe knew that the First Order were monsters – everyone knew that. It was why they were all here, fighting the good fight. But as he watched Finn open his eyes, now shining brightly back at Poe in excitement and comfort and gratitude… he knew this was a war that could be won. The First Order would never have this moment or any others like it. And these moments would always triumph over their cold, brutal uniformity._

_The two of them chatted on the mossy hill for hours, talking about everything and nothing. Finn wasn’t much for words about the First Order, but he did at one point wonder to Poe if there were other Stormtroopers like him. If there were some who would be willing to join the Resistance, even just to get away from life as a series of numbers. Poe had assured him that if there were more good people trapped in there that they’d find them and help them. Finn grabbed his hand and held it tightly as they lay in the sun in silence until it was time to head back to the base._

_Poe lived for the times where he got to fly, but he flew for moments like this one, with Finn. He fought and sacrificed and risked his life to protect all those little moments of peace._

\---

Back in his cold cell, Poe hung on to the memory with Finn like a lifeline. His vision had begun to blur and his feet ached from supporting his body upright for so long, so Poe tried to distract himself with all the reasons he needed to survive and escape this place.

He longed for the moss, and the quiet. Longed for the stillness of the woods. Longed for another chance to hold Finn’s hand. Longed for the soft glow of Black One’s console and BB-8’s conversational beeps to keep him company. Longed for all of the good he still wanted from this life – all of it just waiting for him outside of this cell.

 _They wouldn’t break him here_. He wouldn’t let them.

Poe repeated this to himself when they finally came for him, the dead-eyed and helmetless Stormtroopers mechanically dragging him down the hall towards a room where they made him change into a dull, grey pair of pants and a matching shirt. They kept his shoes and socks, throwing them down a garbage chute in front of him.

No one spoke.

He was eventually brought to an all new room with a familiar interrogation chair in the center. The room was pitch black, save for a white screen being projected in front of the chair, which they harnessed him back in to after removing his shirt. He was finally able to relax his body, allowing himself to slump back against the device for respite. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than where he had been kept. Poe knew all kinds of torture waited for him in this room, but he was nearly too exhausted to care. Instead, he tried to focus on the day in the woods with Finn, hoping that if he was able to sleep he’d carry the memory with him into his dreams.

At least in this room he couldn’t hear the klaxon blaring itself at random intervals. _Any port in a storm_ , he thought.

Poe hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep until he woke to General Hux slapping him in the ear.

Tired and confused, he tried to fire off a response. “…Wha …What the –?”

He felt the cold bite of the blade before he felt the skin on his upper back pulling apart in two short cuts. Poe cried out in sharp pain, looking frantically to Hux for an explanation.

“Good morning, sunshine. Sorry to jump right in but I’m quite excited for what the day holds.” Hux was practically overflowing with dark thrill as his eyes focused on Poe’s mouth, beaming every time he saw the pilot begin to form words.

“What –? My... bac –?” Three more quick slashes at the skin and muscle of his shoulder blade. Poe was squirming in the chair trying to escape from whatever kept cutting into him, feeling tears falling down his face without registering that he was crying. A wide, toothy grin from the General was all he could focus on as his skin ripped apart behind him.

“FN-0406, please step forward so the prisoner can see you.”

Poe saw another Stormtrooper, also without her helmet, approach from behind his left side. She was casually holding out a long, thin medical Sedrellium scalpel, similar to the way one would hold a flower. Poe could see his blood coated the blade of it, some of which dripped down onto the white armor of her gloves. She shared the same vacant look as every other Stormtrooper he had encountered here, and in between his panicked breaths he felt a twinge of sympathy for whoever she had once been.

“She will be my assistant for my sessions with you. For every word that escapes your lips, _for now_ , she will log it into your flesh. Is this clear?”

Poe nodded, anxiously. His eyes darted to his left to follow FN-0406 as she moved back to her position behind him. He found he was no longer able to lay back against the chair; nearly the entire rear portion above his waist and below his neck had been moved aside to allow her easier access to his skin.

“I’m going to be quite cross if it turns out you’re a quick study, Commander Dameron. There’s an art to these things. I made _plans_.”

Forgetting himself, Poe murmured a soft “sorry” under his breath, earning another sharp gash. He grunted and bit his lip through the pain, nearly splitting it open.

“Not _so_ quick, it would seem. Good.”

Poe wanted a Sedrellium scalpel of his own so he could gouge the smirk off of Hux’s face.

“Now then, if you would be so kind as to direct your attention to the projection screen in the front of the room. We have compiled a holofilm just for you.” Hux stepped aside and stared at Poe, his face unnervingly close, as a new Stormtrooper fixed devices to the pilot’s eyes to keep them open.

“Were you aware that all TIEs stream a live recording of their activity directly back to the Command Center? Whether or not they’re shot down, we have a record of it. Nearly every aerial dogfight, captured forever.” He patted Poe on the head, condescendingly. “Kind of like you!”

Poe bit down on his lip even harder, this time tasting the metallic tang of his own blood.

“We also record all interrogations with Resistance fighters, just for this type of occasion. We’ve put together a ‘best-of’, you could say. I don’t want to give away all the nicest bits, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” He pulled away, gesturing at someone behind them to begin the presentation.

“FN-0406 has a keen ear. She has been given permission to log more than words, if she sees fit. If you misbehave, I will ask her to log your front. I will be back to fetch you tomorrow, and maybe we’ll try something new. Do enjoy yourself while I’m gone, Commander.” Hux patted him on the cheek before disappearing into the darkness behind him.

Poe braced himself as the holofilm played out before him. The first scenes were skirmishes between TIEs and X-Wings, footage captured from an observing craft. Regardless, sickness twisted in his gut as he watched dozens of Resistance fighters torn apart, their pilots left to float in the endless abyss of space.

From here, the shots transitioned to a first person view of TIEs directly shooting down X-Wings and blasting through villages. Close enough for Poe to see distinct faces. He had been with the Resistance for a long time, so he recognized several of his fallen squad. The villages he remembered from the aftermath, charred corpses of younglings and entire families caught in the crossfire, left to burn away as collateral damage.

Poe thrashed in his restraints, crying out once when a particularly brutal scene was replayed in slow motion. From behind him he felt FN-0406 test her blade against his skin. She wanted to remind him she was there, but she didn’t make a new cut.

It was over an hour of these scenes before the interrogation recordings started. More familiar faces. He watched in horror as these Resistance fighters, people he _knew_ , people he had shared meals and dances and cockpits with, were slowly dismantled by First Order interrogation droids or personnel. Almost half didn’t survive the interrogations themselves. The other half were disposed of in all manner of brutality; he watched a few fall to blasters, others dropped into an airlock and vented out to space. One unfortunate girl had an extremely rare blood type, so they drained her of every last drop. Hux had collected recordings of it all. More than once, Poe vomited over himself from the sight of it.

He couldn’t help the ragged sounds that escaped him when the next subject’s name flashed on the bottom of the screen. This wasn’t an interrogation, it was something… earlier. Seated across from a stern-looking older officer was a child with dark skin and eager eyes. The boy couldn’t have been more than four years old.

The officer would say something that Poe couldn’t make out, and the child would respond. If the child responded wrong, he would be hit or shocked with a stun baton. By the end of the video the boy was a mess, wailing and trying desperately to protect himself from more pain.

Poe screamed, earning himself a long, fresh gash.

The clip of FN-2187 ended, and the holofilm restarted.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drops of blood left on Poe's pillow weren't red anymore. It had been weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gettin' dark. 
> 
> TW: Mentions of non-con near the beginning. Nothing real, just Finn panicking and trying to guess at what's happening to his friend. 
> 
> Things will probably get less depressing soon. Maybe.

There was blood on Poe’s pillow and Finn knew it was fresh. Rather, it _had_ been fresh, right after he was taken. Sticky, still wet, red as dawn. The recruit that had hit him in the head over and over and over and over had knocked some of Poe’s blood out of his lips. Or maybe it was from the pilot’s nose? Finn couldn’t tell. The three droplets Poe been divested of landed on the pillow, those dark stains a reminder of what was missing. The droplets weren’t red anymore. It had been weeks.

It’d be cliché to say it all felt like yesterday to Finn, the man who had lost track of time around when General Organa confessed they had no leads on where Poe was or who had taken him. They had scoured his bunk and the trail his abductors took, but there weren’t even tracks to follow. The surveillance and BB-8 footage was the only proof they had that Poe hadn’t just evaporated into thin air.

He couldn’t have evaporated, Finn thought – here was his blood. At home on his bed, waiting for him.

“ _Hell_ ,” he remembered General Organa saying, “it could be kriffing _anyone_.” Poe was a hero, and heroes made enemies of rotten people. Finn’s world had turned sideways at her words, completely devoid of any feeling beyond helplessness and anguish. He heard the other pilots, Poe’s peers, speculating wildly about who could’ve taken him.

“The First Order? Is Kylo Ren still after him?”

“Could be bounty-hunters, Iolo. That Hutt wasn’t happy about him freeing those slaves.”

“I had a bad feeling about that Twi’lek lord on Tatooine, the way he kept looking at Poe. What was his name? Fortuna, something?”

“What about those pirates he pissed off back on Naboo?”

Several more names of specific people that Poe had impressed or run afoul of while fighting the good fight.

These names and organizations turned to motives, questions as to why they hadn’t heard from whoever took him. They would wonder aloud if he was killed immediately, the subterfuge and kidnapping a personal vendetta. Karé’s idea being the worst; that someone along Poe’s adventures had become fixated, hyper-focused on the pilot. Wanted him for themselves, limitlessly.

Finn just needed to know what happened. Even if they couldn’t find him. The longer Poe was gone, the clearer it became that not knowing was far worse than confirmation of his death. He could be suffering. Alone. Forever. 

He tried not to think about it. The thought that he could be trapped on a distant, uncharted moon or planet, somewhere they’d never be able to find him. Finn tried desperately to keep out the image of Poe being tied to a bed, visited only to be violated. To be fucked raw with no concern for his pain until he cried out, praying for death. 

Finn’s gaze had turned to watch Leia’s expression fall with the suggestion of another potential maniac who might have Commander Dameron. There were so many places he could be. Too many avenues they would need to follow. He knew what she was weighing in her mind, her military career and the safety and integrity of the entire Resistance versus the life of an X-wing pilot. She couldn’t put their fight on hold for Poe, and she knew it. Besides, that’s not what he would want. Through his own sadness he watched the General’s heart break the day she called off the search.

Finn rolled onto his back. He felt like he had been holding his breath ever since Poe was taken, his chest tight with the anxiety of it. Maybe he’d have Dr. Kalonia check it out tomorrow when he saw her for his first work assignment in the medcenter. The only bright spot in his life was the chance he had to work there, to learn. If they found Poe again he’d want to be able to help. No – not _if_ they found Poe, _when_. _When_ they found Poe.

He prayed to the Force that the First Order didn’t have him.

\---

By the time Hux returned, Poe had been reduced to a pathetic mess in front of him. His eyes darted around the room aimlessly and his front was somehow still wet from vomitting earlier. Beneath him, a dark red puddle of blood, a picture of what had been cut out and drained from him in the past 36 hours. Hux watched as his muscles spasmed and hands clenched. He babbled incoherently, no longer concerned with the Stormtrooper and her scalpel. His back was already in ribbons.

The General smiled at him, gently removing the restraints holding Poe’s swollen and bloodshot eyes open.

“There there, pet. You did well. Would you like to be cleaned before returning to your cell? I will only ask once.”

Poe struggled to focus, tried to wrench his head up to nod in affirmation. He managed a small one – barely noticeable unless you were watching for it.

“Wonderful, good.” The General’s tone was curt but familiar, like a parent training a small child. “Afraid Bacta is out of the question for now, though maybe you’ll earn it later. The more willing you are to comply, the easier this whole process will be for you. Do you understand me? I need a verbal ‘yes, sir’ for this one.”

Poe’s voice was wrecked, burned from the inside out after hours of screaming. He had coughed up blood earlier and every time he swallowed he felt like his throat was going to rip open. Despite this, Hux made it sound like it would hurt less if Poe obeyed. He wanted it to hurt less.

It took far more effort than nodding his head, but Poe managed to croak out a whispered “y-yes, sir”.

Hux took Poe’s face in his hand, turning it roughly to look directly into the General’s sharp blue eyes.

“From this point forward, the only thing that I want to hear from you, unless it’s a direct answer to a question you’ve been asked, are the words ‘yes, sir’. Anything that deviates from these instructions will earn you a trip back here, to this chair. Three offenses and I will remove your tongue. Is this clear?”

Poe struggled to stay conscious. He had been awake so long he was starting to see black spots in his vision. “Yes… s-sir.”

He felt the restraints release him seconds before his body crumpled to the floor, slipping on the wet mess below him and slamming down hard on his chin, splitting it open. Arms on both sides grabbed Poe from underneath his shoulders before he had a chance to gather his bearing. Two Stormtroopers dragged him down the hall to the medical center he had visited earlier where he was once again stripped of his clothes before they muscled him face-down onto a gurney, uncomfortably forced to turn his head onto his left ear before they strapped his neck down. Poe thought he could feel more leather straps holding him tight as he tried to squirm away from the stinging solution they were coating his back with. A quick electrical jab to his ribs stilled his movements.

Anything he had done in this place to stop the pain had resulted in far more pain, he learned. Maybe if he didn’t struggle, at least for now… maybe they’d go easier on him? He wanted to resist but he could fight them _later_ , he thought to himself. When he had the strength. When he didn’t hurt.

Poe couldn’t tell how long the medical staff worked on him but he knew it didn’t matter. Time meant nothing here. All of the procedures had been done without anesthetic, so he was relieved once they stopped working on him. He hadn’t even been able to pass out after they injected him with synthetic adrenaline to keep him alert.

His escorts returned to wheel him back to his locker, only unstrapping him once they arrived so they could redress him before shutting him back in. The cold air felt good on his cleaned and treated skin, his open wounds hot from trying to heal. He slumped forward against the door, willing his muscles to relax. Despite the temperature and the impending alarms, he felt relatively safe here.

As his day wore on, part of him felt like his locker was slightly warmer than before, the klaxons not as loud as he remembered. He didn’t trust his own perceptions considering how long he had gone without rest, so he tried not to think about it.

With nothing to do and nothing to focus on, Poe let his mind wander for hours. His thoughts turned from Finn, Leia, the Resistance, to flying from the cockpit of an X-wing. He struggled to remember the interior as clearly as he had before, his mind warping things more black and cruel than they should be. He couldn’t help it as he inevitably began replaying scenes from the holovid, himself behind the controls.

For the first time in his captivity, Poe couldn’t distinguish his own thoughts and memories from what they fed him and told him to think. They were _winning_ , destroying everything and breaking down who he was as a person… and Poe knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “General Organa, this is General Hux. I have someone here who I’m dying for you to meet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of dark. I may have gone too far in a few places. 
> 
> TW: For a brief mention of dub/non-con.

The Reconditioning Center was surprisingly quiet considering how many people were housed within it. Sometimes Poe will hear a brief scuffle, a choked-off cry, or the sound of a locker door opening, but otherwise the facility was bright, cold, and silent.

The alarm used to bother and frustrate him as it continually denied him sleep, but Poe found it to be less of a nuisance the longer he was there. A few days after returning from another stretch at Hux’s mercy he had hit a breaking point with the alarm, throwing himself against the locker door and beating his fists against his confinement. He only succeeded in wearing himself out, managing to bruise his knuckles in the process. The exertion of it won him the first few minutes of sleep that week before the alarm rudely woke him up. He was thankful for even a respite from the seemingly inescapable boredom that was now his life.

That was the worst part of the process, the boredom. The torture he had been subjected to was inhuman and cruel, leaving splashes of his red in hallways and medical centers and interrogation room drains. Every time he had been dragged from his locker he felt the anxiety and dread of what was to come and whether or not it would kill him. It hadn’t, yet. But the boredom…

Poe had been part of liberation missions, rescuing slaves and prisoners from First Order labor camps. He’d seen the faces of those who had been locked away for too long; the dull, grey eyes of someone who had been starved for stimulation, craving it and finding none.

For someone like Poe Dameron, shining light of the Resistance and friend to all, isolation from other people was taking its toll. He was alone, and when he wasn’t alone, he was forbidden to speak. It felt like a death sentence. His mental walls were breaking down, matching the damage they had done to his body. Poe could almost feel it every time a bit of fight slipped out of him like a sharp, gnawing resignation in his chest.

He wanted to keep holding on to the hope that someone from the Resistance would come for him, Finn or Snap or even Jessika, but as the days passed in solitude and pain he found it harder to carry that hope. Poe closed his eyes and tried to remember what they looked like in case they came to rescue him and he needed to recognize them. All he could picture were scarred faces and missing features. He was cracking.

 _If they ever do rescue me_ , he thought, _I’ll already be gone_.

\---

Two Stormtroopers gather him a few days later, grabbing his cuffed arms and dragging him to a room he had never been to before. The room was dark, with only a few large lights aiming down to illuminate a small area. The Stormtroopers had shoved him into the room and left, and he stood there in confusion for a moment before noticing General Hux. Behind the General stood a row of prisoners wearing black pants and a long sleeved black shirt. Their hands were tied in front of them and they seemed terrified of both Hux and Poe. He counted ten of them in all.

“Good evening, cadet,” Hux said as he sauntered up to Poe. The General had taken to calling him ‘cadet’ lately. Didn’t want to use names like ‘pilot’ or ‘Commander’, lest he remind him of his life outside of the First Order. He didn’t want Poe to have the familiarity of his name or old titles to cling to. “I have a project for you today. A real hands-on activity. You look like hell, but I’m sure you’ll be up for it, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Poe’s mouth said the words he was supposed to. Any other response would have him sent back to that room to watch First Order atrocities until his eyes bled.

Hux smiled and Poe could tell he was pleased with himself.

“Good, glad to hear it. Now, as much as I hate to admit it, the First Order has a waste problem. We have far too many Stormtroopers who have wasted our time lately, likely inspired by the antics of that traitorous FN-2187.”

Poe wanted to laugh at Hux’s anger for Finn, but pushed the compulsion down. _Stay in line and they won’t hurt you_ , he thought. _Stay alive_.

Hux turned to one of the prisoners against the wall, a girl around Rey’s age. She had short black hair and pale skin that looked like it hadn’t been touched by a torturer, save for a large bruise under her right eye.

“FN-5216. Come forward and kneel in front of our cadet.”

The girl did as she was told, hurrying to please the General. She slowly looked up at Poe, her bright green eyes making it obvious she had spent the previous days crying.

“FN-5216,” Hux continued, “is a traitor. She was caught trying to steal a TIE fighter from the hangar. Despite marks that place her in the top 1% of her squadron, she is being passed over for reconditioning as the First Order has _no patience_ for traitors. As such, she has been sentenced to death.”

Poe watched the girl as Hux spoke, her green eyes seeming to gently plead with him to save her.

“FN-5216 has admitted to her crime and is here to receive her punishment. Isn’t that right, FN-5216?”

She held Poe’s gaze, choking out a small “yes, sir.”

The General faced Poe, a grin catching at the sides of his mouth. “Cadet, please kill FN-5216.”

Poe, who had been bordering on exhaustion, was jolted alert at the instruction, barely noticing that his restraints had clicked off and fallen to the floor. He turned to Hux with a look of confusion and anger and fear. He didn’t have a weapon – _what did they expect him to do_? It took every ounce of strength within him to not flatly deny the request, to not charge forward and try to kill Hux instead.

“Is there a problem, cadet?”

Poe didn’t know how to answer, having been expressly told what kind of punishment anything but ‘yes, sir’ would get him. But he couldn’t do it, there was _no way_. This girl could still be a teenager, probably stolen from her home as a child. He looked down at her, then back at the other prisoners who lined the wall. They were all victims, just like he was. He wanted nothing to do with this. He knew where his disobedience would send him, but if he could save even one of these lives it’d be worth it.

“I… no. I won’t. I won’t do it.” The words turned to ash in his mouth. He remembered what Hux had said about what multiple offenses would get him. This was his first, but it felt one step closer to losing his tongue.

Hux’s smile was gone, replaced by a look of barely-contained rage. He lifted his comm to his mouth, requesting two Stormtrooper escorts for the reconditioning prisoner, as well as an additional squad to take the traitors back to the holding cell. Poe cowered away as Hux charged forward, grabbing Dameron’s jaw with his hands and turning his face to meet Hux’s own.

“This changes nothing, _cadet_. They will be placed in a cell while you are gone. When you return you _WILL_ comply with my instructions, _are we clear_?”

The General was screaming at him, rage turning his face a red to match his hair. Poe remained silent. Hux reluctantly released him when the escorts arrived to drag Dameron away, and Poe caught a glimpse of him kicking at the girl, FN-5216, as she kneeled helplessly on the floor.

\---

The chair in the projection room was just as he remembered it, and FN-0406 was already stationed in the corner, watching in silence as they strapped him back in. When he had been secured and his shirt had been removed she walked around to the front of him, reaching out with her blade to make eight quick cuts below his right collar bone, efficient and uniform. Through his screaming he thought back to his words of defiance earlier. Apparently those counted.

He tried to ignore her intense and passive stare as the clasps were fixed back onto his eyes. The projector lit up and a new compilation of holovids began to play.

\---

A day and a half later, they returned for him. A day and a half filled with the cries of First Order enemies, the begging of their torture victims, and the wails of a young FN-2187.

Poe’s eyes felt dry, having been watered much more sparingly this time. He crumpled out of the restraints again but found it harder to get up from the spasms his muscles were working through. He couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t form a thought. Poe felt vacant, like a passenger in his own body. Hands pulled him up and he barely registered the sensation of something heavy being placed around his neck, his arms being re-bound in front of him.

They spared him no rest and no stop at the medcenter, returning him directly to the room he had left two days prior. Hux was waiting with FN-0406 by his side, her blade held delicately in front of her. Somehow she had beaten Poe there, but he couldn’t focus enough to think about it before the Stormtroopers released him and he felt a jolt through his neck that dropped him instantly to the floor. He felt arcs of pain coursing through his limbs, sending him into convulsions and preventing him from crying out.

Seconds later the pain stopped, replaced with a full body ache that enveloped him like a blanket. He let out a whimper, trying to avoid any complete words that would send FN-0406’s blade back into him. Hux walked over to where he was curled up on the floor trying to regain himself. The General knelt down by his head and leaned over him.

“I’d love to play this game with you but there’s the matter of time, I’m afraid. That chair is effective at breaking someone down but in this instance I can’t waste days here having you sent off for long stretches away. Instead, we’ll incentivize you in other ways. You just experienced your new shock collar. Do you feel you’ve learned your lesson, cadet?”

“Yes, sir,” Poe replied, his voice no louder than a whisper.

“Are you prepared to follow commands as I’ve asked?” Hux gestured towards one of the working Stormtroopers to bring FN-5216 forward and she dropped to her knees beside them.

“Yes, sir.” Poe struggled to his feet, trying to stop his vision from spinning. His cuffs once again detaching and falling to the floor suddenly.

“Cadet, please kill FN-5216.”

At the sound of the command, Poe lunged forward, wrapping his hands around the traitor’s small neck. She struggled only at the beginning, her fingers scratching at his face in a panic. The room echoed with a sharp popping noise as he released his grip and allowed her body to collapse to the floor with a thud.

Hux studied him in silent amusement for a moment before summoning the next prisoner forward. Poe dispatched the defective Stormtrooper, this one an older man, just has he had FN-5216. For a Resistance pilot he was shockingly good at hand-to-hand confrontation, Hux mused.

Within minutes there were ten bodies scattered across the floor. Some had struggled. Most hadn’t. The last one appeared to almost welcome it. None of this mattered to Hux; all that mattered was that Poe was starting to follow commands. He felt a swell of pride as he watched a formerly powerful enemy squeeze the life out of a First Order traitor. He admired the irony of the original prisoner who inspired these defectors being the one to snuff out their lives.

“Cadet, come here.”

Poe was hunched over the final body, breathing heavily. At the General’s command he walked forward as instructed. Hux hadn’t noticed it before but Poe had been silently sobbing, his eyes red, puffy, and wet. It wasn’t important. He had done as he was told, and Hux hoped he would be able to do so again, without hesitation.

“You did well, cadet.”

“Yes, sir.”

“In honor of your success today, I’m going to give you your new designation: FN-5216, a reminder of your first kill for Supreme Leader Snoke and the First Order. Do you like it, FN-5216?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hux smiled wide. “I knew you’d say that.”

\---

Four days later, Hux sent for Poe again. This time he was led, not dragged to the room where he had killed the young girl and other traitors. Hux and FN-0406 were there again, as well as ten new prisoners. Poe could tell they were also former Stormtroopers. A brief twinge of pity hit him in the gut before he pushed it down, suppressing it. _Pity only brings pain here_ , he thinks, straightening himself and turning to Hux for instruction.

Hux hadn’t turned his collar on since that first test, and Poe was grateful for it. Grateful for the General’s mercy.

“FN-5216,” Hux says, “we have a new lot of First Order prisoners. Would you like to know what they’ve done to earn a spot here?”

“No, sir.”

“Go on. You may speak freely.”

“Sir,” Poe started, cautiously eyeing FN-0406 before continuing, “If the First Order leadership deem someone an enemy it is not my place to challenge this assessment, sir.”

Hux walked forward and placed a blaster in Poe’s hand, pulling Poe’s gaze towards him before letting go.

“Finish it, FN-5216.”

“Yes, sir.”

Poe lifted the blaster towards the first prisoner and fired, the bolt hitting their sternum and sending the prisoner flying backwards with a smoking crater in their chest.

He didn’t hesitate before moving on to the next prisoner, shooting that one in the head as they looked up at him in fear.

He continued until the room was silent, the smell of charred fabric and flesh hanging in the air. Satisfied that he was able to do as he had been commanded, Poe let the blaster fall to the floor and folded his arms behind his back.

Hux was giddy. “You did well today, FN-5216. Exceptional. We have a bit more work to do but I’m confident you’ll make an excellent addition to the First Order.”

“Yes, sir.”

The General’s smile turned dark as he approached Poe, his veneer of order melting away slightly to reveal a more sinister desire.

“Now, get on your knees. You have one more task today before I send you back to your cell.”

Poe did as he had been instructed, kneeling in front of Hux and lifting his head to face him.

The General ran his fingers through Poe’s hair, drinking in the sight of the way Poe’s eyes had gone distant and unfocused, an improvement over the wild defiance he exhibited those first days.

FN-0406 had wandered over to stand beside Hux, her gaze hyper-focused on Poe’s every movement.

The General unzipped his uniform pants and pulled out his cock, long and pale and frighteningly hard already.

“FN-5216, _suck_.”

“…Yes, sir.”

 ---

Captain Wexley was working his Comms rotation when the message came in, classified as high priority from the kriffing _First Order_. Knowing that the First Order doesn’t just fire off unimportant messages into space at them, he rallied all the personnel and pilots he could call, and half the base gathered around the Communications Center for any news. Word made it to Finn in the medcenter and he came running in as well. Once Leia showed up, Snap opened the message, which was apparently a holovid.

The first thirty seconds were black and they were about to give up and turn it off until General Hux stepped in front of the camera. He looked pleased. Everyone in the Resistance knew who General Hux was, unfortunately. They had seen the aftermath of his leadership.

“General Organa, this is General Hux. I have someone here who I’m dying for you to meet.”

The camera panned slightly left and the room filled with the sounds of horrified gasps.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One General attacks while the other comes up with a plan.

Finn wanted to look away from the broadcast, wanted to scream and vomit and knock things over and fight until his body gave out. He couldn’t. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t protest, he couldn’t feel anything as the pit in his stomach grew like a black hole, trapping his light and leaving nothing.

There was Poe, his face marred with the yellows and greens of fading bruises around his jaw. His eyes were sunken, dull, bloodshot. Finn could see Hux on the right side of the screen, his own eyes frenzied and blue and full of life in comparison.

The entire Resistance watched in silence as Hux brought a hand up to Poe’s head, stroking his hair while their Commander – their _friend_ – stared ahead vacantly.  

“I gather this message is being shared with your entire scrappy band of rebels, General. I know how like a _family_ you are over there.” Hux practically spits the words at her. “Here, we try to be a bit more orderly, more regimented. It gets the job done. Even your dear Commander saw the benefit of how the First Order does its business, didn’t you?” He turned to Poe, careful not to give away his new designation.

“Yes, sir.” Poe answered robotically.

“And are you loyal to the First Order?”

“Yes, sir.”

The hand on Poe’s hair pulled back, opening into a slap across Poe’s face that cracked loudly in the silence of the Comms Center. Poe didn’t blink.

“And you’ll take all that we give you and be grateful for it, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Because you’re weak and powerless without the First Order, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re nothing. Say you’re nothing. Let everyone at home know.”

“I’m nothing, sir.”

“Good. That’s perfect.”

Hux pulled back for another slap, harder this time, followed by a third and fourth, the final one staggering Poe as he bit back tears. His cheek was red and his lip was split open, the blood of it meandering sluggishly down his chin.

Poe remained steadfast as Hux continued to abuse him. Several members of the Resistance looked away after the first punch landed, the sickening crack of Hux’s fist across Poe’s face echoed through their base like an alarm. Finn couldn’t look away, he… he had to be _strong_. For Poe.

By the time Hux finished, most the right side of Poe’s face was turning a deep purple and his right eye was swelling shut.

“Despite the demonstration I had to give to the holovideo recorder, know that you’ve done well today. Replace your helmet and join the rest of the squad. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir,” Poe replied in same tone as before, adorning the standard Stormtrooper helmet with no regard for his facial injuries.

Several more gasps escaped the Resistance personnel who could bear to watch, as the camera turned from Poe to the hundreds of Stormtroopers in formation behind them. Finn tried to track him, tried to follow which Stormtrooper was the one he’d move mountains for, but Poe was gone.

“He… he could be any of them…” said Jess, from corner of the room.

“Oh god… no, oh god, no, no, no!” exclaimed Karé, burying her head in her hands.

Finn followed the camera as it panned from the mass of Stormtroopers back to Hux, a Bantha shit-eating grin painted across his face.

“I do hope trooper FN-2187 is watching this, as the next part I’ve recorded specifically for him.”

A cold rush crept up his spine as Finn could feel all eyes in the room come to rest on him, some with pity, others with confusion.

“FN-2187, everything that’s happened to your beloved Commander is a result of your defection, and I wanted you to know that before you watched this next holovid. Everything you see here is a direct response to your treason.” He turned back once to glance at the massive army behind him. “And I honestly believe your pilot is better for it. Enjoy.”

Finn could barely breathe as anxiety crept through him, gripping his chest like a clawed hand. This was the worst case scenario; Poe being Reconditioned by the First Order. He didn’t want to believe what Hux had said, but what else could he think? The fake recruits had plenty of time and opportunity to take him, but they went for Poe instead. Why?

_Because it would hurt more._

Finn had no time to register the thought before the broadcast changed to a scene of Poe, writhing in a First Order torture chair, his eyes held open and his body dripping with blood, seemingly from everywhere, his screams like daggers in Finn’s heart.

The holovid continued, this time Poe was helplessly thrashing futilely against the walls of a Bacta tank. The recording changed again to Poe in his cell, slumped over in his cramped space, raising his hands against his ears in pain to block out a sound. The holovid increased in speed and variation, showing different clips of Poe’s torment over the past several weeks, enough to make Finn sick. He screwed his eyes shut at the sound of his own name escaping Poe’s lips in between his pleas for mercy.

Despite the growing crowd, Finn felt alone in the Comms Center. He hadn’t registered Leia beside him as she rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Poe’s screaming finally stopped and Finn reluctantly opened his eyes. This was a new perspective from a stationary camera in the corner of a very dark room. He could see Poe, he could see Hux, and he could see the Stormtroopers. He could hear Hux’s command, and he watched Poe struggle against it. Saw him dragged out of the room before the video cut briefly, returning to focus on a much more damaged Poe. He was wearing something around his neck and Finn recognized it instantly when Poe dropped to the floor in agony.

Finn felt the air leave his lungs as he watched Poe desperately squeeze the life out of a girl no older than Rey. He sensed Leia’s hand tightening on his shoulder, could hear her soft exclamations as the scene played out on the holovid.

A cut.

More prisoners, Poe with a blaster.

The audio was low, but he could make out a few things from Hux’s expression. The First Order General was pleased. He ordered Poe to kneel in front of him. Finn could feel the bile rising in his throat.

He turned away when Hux forced his cock down Poe’s throat, though he could still hear Poe’s choked breaths as he struggled to obey as he was commanded.  

He finally turned back to the holovid when Leia started crying openly, feeling ashamed at himself for not being strong enough to watch.

Hux seemed to be deliberately taking forever, delighting in the way Poe’s weakened body tried in vain to sit up and swallow each deep thrust. He’d gently tousle Poe’s hair before grabbing his head and viciously shoving himself down Poe’s throat.

With each knowing smirk Hux shot at the camera, Finn felt the defeat within himself burn away with a growing anger. By the time Hux pushed Poe backwards, shooting himself messily over the pilot’s face, Finn’s hands were balled into fists, his resolve deeper and more clear than the day he first rescued Poe from the Finalizer.

He watched General Hux command Poe to remain on the floor, leaving him with the corpses in the darkness. Poe waited until they were gone before curling into himself, sobbing openly as he tried to wipe Hux’s seed off of his face.

The holovid cut to black and the room erupted into chaos. For Poe and for the revelation that there were likely First Order spies in their midst. Snap had cleared the two that kidnapped the Commander, so much of the collective vitriol was hurled at him. Finn remained quiet, physically incapable of forming a complete thought that didn’t involve Hux in several pieces.

Swallowing her own sadness, Leia did what she could to control the room.

“Enough,” she pleaded as Leia, barely above a whisper. Gathering herself, she tried again as a General in the Resistance. “I said _ENOUGH._ ”

It worked. All personnel in the room remembered themselves, standing at attention for what she was about to say.

“So, we now know the First Order has Commander Dameron. What else do we know? Lieutenant Connix, collect this information.”

Several hands in the room shot up in response.

“Yes, Jess.”

“We know that the First Order had or _has_ plants in the Resistance.”

“That’s true. Connix, mark that as priority 2, please. Iolo, yes. What do you have for us?”

“We know that Poe was part of their reconditioning program and is now likely a Stormtrooper.”

Leia let her head fall. “And we all know the glaring issue there.”

“They wear helmets,” added Connix. “We won’t be able to tell which is him.”

The General pointed to the sky in mock victory. She turned to Finn, grabbing him by the shoulders until he met her gaze. He could see the hurt in her eyes, edged to the side by an unrivaled determination and resiliency he’d heard so much about from those who served under her.

“Finn, tell me. This process… is it possible to recover from it? Is there more to it than we were shown?”

 “Well,” he replied, throat tight, “undoubtedly there is more that General Hux kept from us. And each reconditioning is personal to the trooper and offense, though I’ve never heard of one quite so…” he trailed off, unable to finish the thought. “I spent a lot of time in the First Order. I’ve seen people come back from there completely scraped clean, like they’d been gutted. But… a few bounced back. If anyone could recover from this, it’d be Poe.”

“But General Organa, how will we even be able to tell which is Poe?” added Snap from the back of the room.

Leia thought about it, finally turning to Major Ematt. “Caluan, do they still owe us a favor in Xakrea?”

“We’ll have to check but I believe so,” he gestured to a young-looking Mon Calamari to verify. “Is there something we need manufactur–”

“Stun blasters. We won’t replace our current arsenal, but we’ll supplement it. If we can get Xakrea to supply us with stun blasters, I want every field team trained to use them. Going forward, we will use them _exclusively_ when engaging with Stormtroopers or potential First Order threats.”

“What will we do once they’re stunned? Just… check under their helmets until we find Poe?” Jess asked.

“In so many words, yes. But until you hear otherwise, our objective will be to subdue and retain any Stormtroopers we encounter in the field. On that note, Lieutenant Connix, please add that we should ask Xakrea for a shipment of stun cuffs as well. And I need a team working to free up the holding cells in block 4 – Karé, I’m assigning this to you.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “Look. I don’t know if we’ll ever get Commander Dameron back. And I wouldn’t call for action that would jeopardize any one of you in his place. But maybe if we stop killing our enemies and start seeing what they know while kindly offering them a chance to defect and become one of the good guys,” she said, stealing a quick glance and a respectful nod at Finn, “I don’t see why we wouldn’t try it. Understood?”

Finn didn’t expect to hear so many tentative but excited cries of “Yes ma’am!”, but Leia’s plan was intriguing. They could potentially recover Poe while whittling away at the First Order’s ground game. If they could get information about Poe’s whereabouts from even one rogue trooper, it’d be worth it.   

He turned to Leia with a bright resolve burning behind his eyes. “General Organa, what do you need from me?”

She grabbed his hands in hers. “Call back Luke and Rey. We’ll need Jedi.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn scours the Stormtrooper program for information.

It had been two standard months since General Organa had instructed the Resistance to start capturing Stormtroopers instead of killing them.

62 days.

1400 hours.

89,000 minutes.

For Finn, an eternity.

Knowing who had Poe and what they had done to him was almost unbearable. Finn couldn’t shake the image of Poe’s dead, distant eyes as General Hux hurt and humiliated him. The image followed him into his sleep where he dreamt of Poe taking that blaster shot on Jakku, his hand reaching up to FN-2187, leaving three red streaks on his helmet. He wouldn’t be allowed to mourn Poe. No one mourned Stormtroopers. They were made to fall. Finn always struggled with that.

Another restless night had Finn checking his datapad at 03:00 to mindlessly scroll through the latest developments in the Stormtrooper program. General Organa had, of course, put him in charge, and he took to it aggressively. Even if he had been feeling hopeless and dejected about being no closer to finding Poe, he put on a strong face for the Resistance.

As he was analyzing the latest data, a note from Jess popped up on the screen.

<<F O PATROL NEAR KASHYYYK – NEUTRALIZED – 15/15 STORMIES INBOUND – 11/15 RTJ – HI FINN>>

He smiled. Jess was one of Poe’s closest friends, and he had spent a few nights swapping drunken stories about everyone’s favorite pilot with her. Finn noticed that she made a special effort when it came to cheering him up, since he accidentally let slip his fears about Poe in First Order hands. He appreciated the gesture, even if it didn’t change anything.

With 15 new Stormtroopers en route, 11 of which Jess classified as ‘Ready to Join’, Finn figured he wouldn’t bother trying for more sleep. He groggily hit the ‘fresher which, unfortunately, did very little to wake him. He hoped the warm cup of caf he was nursing would help. It did, a bit.

General Organa was already in her office when he arrived to debrief her on the program’s latest. She was warming her hands against her own cup of caf. D’Qar was cold that morning – Poe would’ve hated it.

She wordlessly gestured for him to take a seat.

“Good morning, Captain Finn. What’s the latest? I heard Captain Pava is on her way?”

“She is, ma’am. Sounds like there was an incident near Kashyyyk and they were able to subdue all 15 of the accounted for ‘troopers. She said 11 were willing to join right off the bat.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, Finn. You know, if I had known we’d have a 97% conversion rate I wouldn’t have asked her team to clear up so many holding cells.”

They both smiled at this, avoiding eye contact. It was good work, but it still bordered on uncomfortable. Finn had been a Stormtrooper. The people they were bringing in were his peers.

“How many is that now?” she asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“Uh, with this new team it brings us to… 510.”

“All cleared by Rey and Luke?”

He nodded. “Once when they were aware of it, the other in secret. All of them.”

“And from that, the holdouts?”

“Still 14 holdouts, ma’am. Plus, the four inbound.”

“Not bad. What’s your analysis on the 14?” she inquired, blowing on her caf and taking a gentle sip.

Finn sat forward in his seat. “…Permission to speak freely, ma’am?”

“Of course, Finn.”

“I think we’d have more success if we moved FN-0005 away from the rest of the group. She’s stubborn, and persuasive. I’ve seen some of the younger ones look to her before speaking. She leads their opposition, so I’d like to see how they react without a senior officer shooting them dirty looks every time one of them tries to speak up.”

The General pretends to consider it before responding. “I approve of this, though I should remind you that you are in charge of this operation and don’t need to ask my permission, unless you plan on just, I don’t know… _murdering_ all of them. So, barring that, feel free to take any action you deem necessary. You have the Resistances’ trust completely, Finn.”

Their eyes did meet at that, finally. A nod of respect passed between them.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll have FN-0005 transferred to a different block and I’ll update you if there’s a change in status.”

“Stay warm, Finn. Dismissed.”

\---

Per Resistance standards, the Stormtrooper holding areas were quite nice and welcoming. Sure, there were cell bars on one wall, but the floors were covered in soft Wampa hair rugs and there was actual furniture for each recruit. Many initial holdouts, upon seeing the way the Resistance treated their ‘enemies’, joined the Resistance almost immediately. Others only lasted one or two nights sleeping on a real bed before deciding that Resistance life was far better than waiting for the First Order to come for them.

Finn spent time with every acquired Stormtrooper on the base, reassuring them that life really could be happy and easy, and showing them the good things the Resistance was fighting for. He was surprised to learn that his designation was moderately famous in certain squadrons, the name ‘FN-2187’ whispered between Stormtroopers like some kind of folk hero. He asked every single of them if they had heard of a former Resistance pilot with a shock collar. So far, no one had. Each ‘no’ got harder for Finn to accept.

He worked his way over to the cell block where the 14 holdouts were staying, waving hello individually to the 13 still in the main chamber. Finn had brought each of them a sample of puffcake, his favorite pastry. It was one Poe had introduced him to after they escaped together. Part of him hoped a Stormtrooper would recognize it from Poe having described it to them. No such luck. Still, the younger ones seemed to appreciate the gesture, and he made eye contact with a few of them for the first time. A couple even smiled and thanked him. Finn wished their appreciation and the rescue of so many just like him was enough to fill the void that grew within him after Poe was taken, but it wasn’t enough.

FN-0005’s new room was located in a separate cell block, a bit out of the way from the rest of the Stormtroopers. Finn felt bad about sending her into what was basically isolation, regardless of how much of a pain in his ass she had been, so he requested a music player and a selection of different genres of music that she could use to keep herself company when he wasn’t around.

He found her sitting in the middle of the floor reading one of the non-fiction books he had left her. It detailed the life of a young Alderaanian refugee following the destruction of their planet. Finn was surprised, hoping she wasn’t just reading it to toy with him, or for the mentions of the Empire.

“Morning, FN-2187,” she said, looking up from her book to smile at him.

“Morning, Five. How are you liking your new setup?”

She shrugged, returning to her book. “It’s a room.”

Finn tried not to roll his eyes. He was used to her style of protest; she’d be friendly up to a point where he’d think she’s warmed up to him, then she’d shut down and freeze him out. He didn’t know if this was a negotiation tactic or if she was just insufferable.

“Well, I feel bad having asked for you to be transferred here, so –”

“ _You_ had me transferred here? Why?” She didn’t allow him a chance to answer before figuring it out for herself. “Ah. You want the younger ones more susceptible to your propaganda, don’t you,” she laughed. “Very clever, 2187. You would’ve made a decent officer back in the Order, you know that?”

“I’m an officer here, actually. And technically I outrank you.”

“Sure, sure. But I meant a _real_ officer.”

Finn crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one side. He shot her a displeased look, which she smiled at slightly before pressing her lips together in show.

“ _As I was saying_ , I brought you some music to help pass the time. If you don’t know what music is, it’s impossible to explain, so just turn the thing on and you’ll figure it out.”

Finn was surprised to see her eyes soften as she stood slowly to reach out for the music player.

“…I know what music is,” she whispered. “…Thank you.”

He sat down in front of her cell, sliding the remaining piece of puffcake through the bars. “I also brought you this. It’s really kriffing good, but if you don’t like it I can find you something else from the mess. But, you’ll like it.”

“No need to keep trying to curry my favor, 2187. You know where I stand.”

“I do, I do. But for the life of me I can’t figure out why. They’re not coming for you, you know that, right? You have to know that. Stormtroopers don’t matter to them.”

She shrugged again, examining each music disc until she seemed to recognize one. Inserting it into the player, she closed her eyes in satisfaction as her selection played. It was a classical piece, from Coruscant. For the first time, she seemed calm.

“My Captain used to play this music. Sometimes. When everyone else was asleep. I heard he was from Coruscant, and that he listened to it as a child. He was grooming me for a promotion in rank, so I spent personal time with him. He shared things with me. This was one of them. I was going to become a Captain. I had a name picked out and everything.”

Finn studied her features as she spoke, watching her head sway slightly to the music. Her short reddish-brown hair had grown a bit longer, and he could see that she tried to pull it back behind her ears.

“Music is not permitted in the First Order. You know that, I know that. My Captain knew that. I had him reported for failure to comply,” she said, her face unchanging. “They sent him to Reconditioning. He came back, obviously stripped of his rank, but he was different. He didn’t seem alive inside. I watched him struggle to hold a fork, once. I suppose it’s hard with only four finge–”

“ _Enough_ ,” Finn barked at her, slamming his fist against one of the bars. She remained unmoved and he was upset with himself for losing his cool.

After a beat, she opened her eyes and stared straight at him. Her look was impassive but firm.

“I know what you want, FN-2187. I heard about what happened to your pilot friend. And I know you hate me for not converting to your Resistance, but you know I can’t.”

He sighed. “I don’t know why you _think_ you can’t, Five.”

“Because… I don’t feel bad about reporting on my commanding officer. I believe it made him better, the Reconditioning. It tears you up inside to hear that, because I know your pilot went through the process as well. I don’t feel bad about that, either. I think. I mean, I’m not _trying_ to hurt you, 2187. Finn. I just… there’s something wrong with me. I don’t think I learned all the parts about how to feel… _nice_.”

Finn had wanted to lash out at her and her complete lack of empathy. Hearing her reflect about herself, though, was something new. He was aware that it was likely another trap in the infuriating games she liked to play, but this was the closest she had ever come to acting like a person with regrets, and he was intrigued.

“I’m sorry to hear you can’t feel things, Five. I honestly don’t know if the Resistance can help you with that.”

“So if I can never come around to your way of thinking and feeling are you just going to keep me locked up in here forever?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged, leaning back onto his hands.

“Huh. Kind of a no-win for me, then.”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Well… at least I get free shit,” she said, picking up the puffcake and studying it cautiously. “Poisoned?”

“Five… c’mon.”

“Right, right. You lot are above that, aren’t you. So _noble_. Fighting the good fight.” She took a large bite, nodding as she chewed. _Everyone_ loved puffcake.

“It’s amusing to hear you use that word, ‘noble’, like you have any concept of it, Five,” Finn sneered.    

That got her attention, her eyes cautiously turning to him as she shoveled pastry into her mouth. Finn had never lowered himself to her level until now. Encouraged, he continued.

“Do you want to know what ‘noble’ means? It’s not just an empty word you can throw at people that you believe think they’re better than you. ‘Noble’ means having values and principles. It means doing what’s right, even if it completely sucks. It means putting others before yourself at all costs. _Poe_ is noble. Poe is ‘that pilot’ you keep snidely referring to, _as if you ever once earned the right to talk about him_ you disillusioned _child_.” She had stopped chewing messily, leaning forward in rapt attention at his barely-contained anger and grief. He didn’t know if she was humoring him or making fun of him but he didn’t care. “Poe is the kind of person you’d take a blaster in the chest for, Five. He rescued me from that damned Star Destroyer, from that cursed life as a mindless, miserable Stormtrooper. From the rank-and-file bantha shit you think so highly of. He’s only ever been _kind_ and _driven_ and _compassionate_ and now he’s back _there_ , with those _monsters_ , probably because of me, and there’s no one in the universe who deserves it _less_ than _Poe kriffing Dameron_. So hate me all you want, but try to show _a little kriffing respect_ if you’re going to talk about things or people you know nothing about.”

He was crying, finally. He knew it was a terrible mistake, that she’d latch onto any perceived weakness and exploit it. That was part of Captain training. He was trained for that as well. He couldn’t look at her any more, dragging himself to his feet and heading for the cell block door.

“…Finn.” She was staring up at him from the ground, with a face covered in puffcake powdered sweetener. She looked ridiculous, but also sorrowful and sincere.

He turned his head, only slightly. “ _What?_ ”

She paused, and he reached for the door handle.

“…FN-7728 may know something. I didn’t let her tell me, because I know you’d never believe me. I can’t be trusted, most of the time, because all I really want is to get out of h–”

Finn seethed. FN-7728 was one of their _first_ recruits. “May know something about _what_ , FN-0005?”

Her eyes dropped at him using her First Order designation. She felt the sting of… _something_. It was a new feeling. Unpleasant.

“May know something about your pilot. Poe. She mentioned a shock collar. Seeing one on a passing trooper. That kind of thing stays with you, you know? I told her if she said anything to the Resistance about it that I’d… I’d do something bad. That I’d fake being rehabilitated to get out and then I’d find her and gouge her eyes out. But… let her know that it’s okay. I won’t, now.”

“The Jedi would see through your insincere shit anyway, Five.”

“Yeah, probably,” she responded, sadly.

Finn nodded, slightly, before turning back to look at the door.

“Is that all, FN-0005?”

“Yes, sir.”

\---

After collecting himself, he looked up FN-7728, now ‘Ellie’. She was assigned to the mess hall as she was one of the first ex-Stormtroopers to join the Resistance. Food for Stormtroopers was terrible, and the new recruits couldn’t get enough of what the Resistance had to offer. The mess hall spots had filled up quickly.

He remembered her. Sweet girl, wavy blonde hair that she was letting grow out. With proper nutrition and sunlight it was almost shoulder-length now. Catching her gaze as he entered the mess, she smiled at him and waved, setting down her tray of dishes to run over to him for a hug. Hugs were another thing the First Order didn’t have. The new intimacy of a hug was enough to turn half the Stormtroopers they took in.

“Finn! It’s been so long! How are you? Can I get you anything? They let me have extra deserts if I finish on time – I can give you mine from yesterday if you want?”

“Oh Ellie, no, I couldn’t possibly, but thank you.”

“Of course, Finn. Anything. Anytime.”

They made their way to an empty table, away from the rabble of pilots and comms technicians.

“Actually, there is something I was wondering if you could help me out with…”

“Sure, Finn! I’d be happy to help out with whatever you need.”

“There’s a… well, you know about Poe Dameron, right?”

At the sound of his name her hands shot up to her mouth, covering it as she shook her head in panic.

“No, no, Ellie, listen – it’s alright. I spoke with Five. She told me how she threatened you. I won’t let it happen, okay? She was the one who said you had information that could help us. Is there something you know? It’d mean a lot to us. A lot to me.”

She lowered her hands from her mouth but she still looked distressed. Finn rested his hand on hers, trying to let her know she was safe. She nodded in response. He had always been close with Ellie. She trusted him.

“I think I… I _think_ it was him, Finn. I recognized him from a Resistance poster I saw in Mos Eisley. But he looked… _bad_. Reconditioning, bad. He was wearing a shock collar, like some kind of feral, and…” she trailed off.

Finn winced at her description. “Where did you see him, Ellie? Where was this?”

“On Finalizer. He was following around General Hux. I was working a nav unit when he came up alongside me to talk to another General. He mentioned something about “personal”… “ _guard?_ ”, I think it was? That your friend was his personal guard? He looked so sad, Finn. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. She was going to gouge out my eyes and, and… I was scared. _Oh stars_ , I feel terrible. I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

Fighting back a panic attack, he thanked her for the information, reassuring her that he wasn’t mad at her for holding onto it for so long.

But he _was_ mad. He was boiling over inside. Hux had _kept_ Poe, after all of that. After the Resistance had completely reconfigured their entire playbook for engaging with the First Order, that monster had kept Poe for himself.

Hux thought he was so clever, making the Resistance think Poe had ever been at risk from them. Hux had likely never anticipated the Resistance rising above his taunts, strengthening their ranks in the process. And now they knew where Poe was. Finn stopped at a wall on his way to General Organa’s office, closing his eyes as he leaned against it, taking a deep, deep breath. He could’ve sworn he felt the Force flow through him at that moment. The Force, telling him to go get Poe back.

 _He was going to get Poe back_.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More is asked of Hux's personal guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, TW for basically the entire chapter being non-con. 
> 
> I think I said a few chapters ago that I was done tormenting Poe, which was inaccurate. This idea just sort of got away from me. Sorry.
> 
> Also, one million thanks to @beautifullights for letting me bounce ideas off of her. <3

General Armitage Hux’s meteoric rise through the ranks of the First Order hadn’t really surprised anyone with the unique privilege of interacting with him over the years. He was very much like his parents; driven, focused, ruthless, _brutal_. There were rumors that his mother personally sabotaged the transport ship carrying the cadet up for promotion ahead of her son, though it could just as well have been an unfortunate act that tipped the scales towards Hux’s favor. Unfortunate acts that fell in his favor seemed to follow the junior Hux throughout his life, which suited him fine. The Hux family enjoyed authority, and held onto it at all costs. It didn’t take long for their callousness to gain infamy, and by the time both of his parents were killed in one of these unfortunate accidents, Hux had risen through the ranks to General. The fear of those who reported to him was palpable, and he savored it like a fine Corellian wine.

After his promotion to General, he had the previous council and leadership liquidated, replaced with a team hand-selected based on their ability to obey. Unfortunately, General Hux had no control over the other First Order leadership at his level and above. While some were bearable to him, many were not, and he loathed the strategy sessions he had to spend listening to their terrible ideas.

He had been stuck in one such strategy session not long after Poe’s reconditioning was complete. Hux was drumming his pen against the table anxiously, trying to drown out General Zteng’s prattle about stars knows what. Hux’s eyes wandered to the row of Stormtrooper guards lining the far wall against the door. Each General brought their own personal Stormtrooper guard, a luxury afforded at their rank. Most were quite large, some of them female. Hux could easily pick his out of a line-up even under all of that armor, as Poe was slightly short. He was also the only Stormtrooper wearing a shock collar. The General’s eyes locked onto Poe hungrily, intrigued by the way the white armor of the uniform clung to his chest and hips. Hux licked his lips reflexively, surprising himself.

While he rarely got anything out of sharing a meal with the other members of leadership, earlier that day he had made an attempt at conversation with them.

 _I have finally decided on keeping a personal guard_ , he said. _In the event they act up, how do you keep them in their place?_

A few of them chuckled, amused at the idea of Hux not being able to control someone. One of the Generals who kept a female guard spoke up, detailing a form of humiliation and dominance that Hux had only toyed with earlier.

 _That really works? They’ll submit?_ All heads at the table nodded in agreement, each murmuring a subtle testimonial. He had been captivated by their suggestions, no longer thinking them as soft or as worthless as he once did.

Even though Poe had consistently followed his direction without error, Hux still delighted in seeing the once-proud Resistance pilot brought to his knees in pain or fear. Hux couldn’t help himself, not that he ever wanted to. He had planned on trying the Generals’ suggestion out that night, and he was restless waiting for his meeting to end.

After what felt like hours, Hux pretended to get an urgent First Order directive on his personal datapad, excusing himself for the evening. He allowed Poe to lead them back to Hux’s quarters, smiling at the pilot’s ignorance of what Hux had planned.

Though he never spoke outside of the approved “yes, sir” and “no, sir”, Hux could tell that Poe was always cautious about falling into the traps the General would set for him. Most recently, Hux had left out a large knife on his desk near where Poe usually stood in silence every evening. With Poe’s helmet off, Hux could see the calculations behind his eyes. The minute Poe glanced down at the knife, Hux’s hand was on the collar control. With the push of a button Poe was on the ground, limbs pulled close and his body curling in on itself as he seized uncontrollably. He’d walked over to Poe, standing above the pilot as he watched him convulse, eyes screwed shut as tiny pained breaths escaped him. Hux had stroked his hair gently until Poe passed out from the pain.

Since that incident, Poe had been perfectly obedient. This both thrilled and disappointed Hux, and he hoped that his plans for the evening would pull some kind of reaction from Poe.

It took everything Hux had in him to not pounce on Poe the minute they entered his private quarters, instead excusing himself to the ‘fresher while his Stormtrooper held his post near the door.

Hux changed out of his officer uniform, opting for loose-fitting grey pants and a snug shirt he usually wore for exercise. He paused a moment to check his appearance in the mirror before returning to his quarters, settling himself into a seated position on the bed.

“How are you feeling tonight, FN-5216? Are you well?”

Without turning to face him, Poe responded. “Yes, sir.”

“Remove your helmet, FN-5216. You won’t need it tonight.”

Poe did as he was instructed, setting his helmet on the floor beside him.

“Remove your armor as well, including your weapon and boots. Put it all in your quarters. I don’t want it cluttering my floor.”

Poe walked to Hux’s closet as he removed the white plating of his Stormtrooper uniform, gathering it all into his arms and setting it into a corner there. He was walking back to his post when Hux told him to stop in front of his bed.

“Take off your shirt, FN-5216. And your pants. Set them on the desk chair.”

He slowly removed the rest of his uniform, returning to stand at attention with his hands folded behind his back, wearing only the black Stormtrooper-issued briefs. Even though Poe was staring straight ahead, his eyes distant, Hux could feel his discomfort and fear as it radiated off of him.

“Are you afraid right now, FN-5216? Are you afraid of me?”

Poe hesitated for a moment too long before answering. “…No, sir.”

Hux grabbed the collar remote from his bedside table and held it up in front of Poe. “I’ll ask again. Are you afraid?”

“…Yes, sir.”

“Why?” Hux asked lightly, genuinely curious. “Permission to speak freely.”

Poe hesitated again, his voice hoarse from disuse. “…Y-you hurt m-me. Even when I obey.”

The General smiled at this, delighted with himself for so adequately reconditioning the once-proud Resistance nuisance.

“I do, you’re right. It pleases me. Trust me, it would be worse for you if I was displeased.”

Poe blinked slowly. “Yes, sir.”

Hux studied him for a moment, drinking in the sight of Poe’s nearly naked body for the first time, feeling himself grow hard as he followed the lines of Poe’s clavicle from the collar burns down the length of his scarred and muscular chest. He generally wasn’t attracted to men, or women for that matter, only concerned with what he could use a person for. Though he successfully avoided it his entire life, Hux was _intrigued_ by the concept of sexuality and the balance of power that came with it. When done consensually, he’d heard it was a mutually beneficial display of trust. Hux wasn’t interested in that.

“Remove your underwear.”

Poe complied, clenching his jaw as he let his briefs fall to the floor, stepping out of them and placing them with his shirt and pants. Hux nearly laughed watching Poe try to decide whether or not to return his hands behind his back or to place them in front of his crotch to cover himself. He knew the only reason Poe returned to holding them behind his back was out of fear.

“Come here,” he instructed, sitting up on his knees and reaching out to touch the pilot the second he was close enough. He slowly ran his hands over Poe’s chest, enthralled by the way Poe’s skin was smooth and much darker than his own. Hux poked at the V-shape made by Poe’s hipbones. He turned him around manually, placing both of his hands on Poe’s ass, gently pushing against the firmness of it before grabbing a handful. He adored the tiny dimples in Poe’s lower back, right above his pelvis. Hux had never been intimate before, so he was fascinated by this chance to fully study what the big deal was. He felt himself grow even harder when he rolled his fingers along the disharmony of scars on Poe’s back as he guided the pilot to sit down next to him on the bed.

“I was wrong, before. When I said you looked better with your nose broken. I prefer you like this.”

Poe was deliberately avoiding eye contact with the General, focusing instead on the bedroom door, his hands on his lap shaking almost imperceptibly.

“Are you still scared?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Turn over and lay on your stomach.”

Poe did as he was told, laying forward while Hux retrieved a set of cuffs from his night stand, locking Poe’s arms behind him. He could feel the pilot’s body trembling below him as he settled between his legs.

“Have you ever taken a man like this before, FN-5216?”

“N-no, sir,” he said, his voice cracking.

“All the better for me. Maybe we’ll both learn something today.”

Hux removed his own shirt and pants, retrieving a new bottle of what the other Generals referred to as ‘lubrication’ for this activity. He poured a bit in his palm, stroking himself casually with one hand while the other explored Poe’s prone body.

Even though he lacked the context of how this was supposed to work, he spread the cheeks of Poe’s ass and figured it out quickly. Hux scooted forward, drawing himself up and rubbing the tip of his cock around the rim of Poe’s hole. After deciding that it did indeed feel rather good, he pushed himself inside, struggling with the tightness at first, groaning at the pleasure of it coupled with the whine of pain below him. He took a moment to admire how Poe’s entire body seemed to tense up and shudder around him, his hands clenching and legs desperately trying not to kick out.

Hux pushed in deeper, thankful for the idea to lubricate the process. He smiled as he watched Poe try to hide his face in the pillows of the bed, his muffled crying like an aphrodisiac for the General. Once he was fully buried in the pilot he slowly dragged himself out, the new sensation of the act nearly overwhelming him. He had touched himself before, casually, but it couldn’t compare to what he was experiencing with Poe, even against the oral stimulation he demanded from him earlier.

Resting one hand between Poe’s shoulder blades and grabbing Poe’s hip with the other, he pushed back in, increasing the pace of his thrusts, forcing himself deeper each time. The pained grunts and whimpers from the pilot as he tried to hold back his screams only motivated Hux more, angling himself and pushing in harder to try to draw them out.

Poe had been conditioned to make as little noise as possible, so Hux grabbed the collar remote for assistance. He clicked it on for short bursts, throwing his head back in pleasure each time Poe’s body clenched violently around his dick.

Finally, Poe did scream, the ecstasy of it bringing Hux to orgasm deep within his captive. Exhausted and thrumming through the waves of pleasure, Hux remained inside of him as he laid down on the pilot’s back, running one hand through Poe’s hair while he savored each tear that silently rolled down Poe’s face.

Fully relaxed and contented, he finally pulled himself out and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked back down at Poe, noticing the blood between Poe’s legs. It satisfied him, as he knew the blood wasn’t his own.

He took a brief leave to shower and when he returned he was glad to see Poe hadn’t moved from where he’d left him. He loved the sight of Poe’s body on his bed, trussed up and open for him to fuck whenever he felt like it. Hux cursed himself for not trying it sooner, thinking back to all of the nights he had relegated Poe to the floor of the closet instead of in his bed for him to consume.

Replacing his own pants and shirt, he turned out the lights and rejoined Poe, spreading himself out next to him.

“I’m leaving the cuffs on you until I know you can be trusted completely. You may clean yourself tomorrow.”

He patted Poe on the cheek before turning over.

“Sleep well, FN-5216.”

“Y-y-yes, s-sir.”

Poe closed his eyes and drifted further away.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning. Rey makes contact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took far too long to write this chapter. I hope to have the next few up much quicker. Also, always check the tags in case something gets added... (something was added)...
> 
> <3

General Hux woke slowly, his body a bit sluggish from the previous night’s activities. Though he maintained a fit figure – per First Order standards – he had never exerted himself in that manner before, and he enjoyed the feeling of his muscles aching in new ways.

Lazily blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he pulled his datapad off of the nightstand to check the time and to see if there were any urgent messages. Though he was happy that it was only 05:00, meaning he had a couple more hours before his alarm was set to go off, he was less happy to find a high priority missive from Lieutenant Mitaka.

<< 

_RE: Resistance Activity – Riosa_

_General Hux,_

_At 22:30 GST last night, we believe the Resistance attacked our First Order manufacturing base on Riosa. We do not yet have figures on what was lost, but none of the Stormtrooper squads have responded to repeated hails from the closest Star Destroyer._

_Generals Fennict and Mazuri believe it to be a total loss, on par with the loss reported from the alleged Resistance attack on Sarrish two days ago. As with Sarrish, leadership is assuming the squads on Riosa have also vanished._

_An emergency action meeting has been scheduled for 09:00. Confirm?_

_[ YES ]_

_[ NO ]_

>> 

Hux sighed in exasperation as he clicked the ‘YES’ prompt. He had anticipated a response to his holovid from the Resistance, but he was surprised at the speed of it. Including the most recent attack, six squads had vanished in the days since the holovid was delivered. Hux was impressed at their response, and he felt secretly grateful that he didn’t actually send Poe into the field.

Especially now that he had found an additional use for the rebel pilot.

Adjusting his alarm for an hour earlier and setting his datapad back onto the night stand, he stretched out in an attempt to reawaken his tired limbs. Poe was on his side, curled down around himself on the far end of the bed, facing away from Hux. The General tried muting his movements once he realized Dameron could still be asleep, preferring to wake him deliberately, if possible.

He pulled the bedsheet back slowly, letting his gaze trail over the recent abuse painted on the pilot’s body. The darker bits of Hux found it beautiful the way Poe’s hands were turning a soft purple from being cuffed behind his back all night, and how the shade paired well with the shadowy blacks and blues against the light brown skin of his hips and ass. And of course, _the red_. He felt an ownership over the colors Poe’s body made, a growing compulsion to trace each white scar with his tongue so there would be no doubt who he belonged to.

Hux reached out his hand to the pilot’s neck, lightly brushing the rust-colored skin of the shock collar burn with his fingers.

As his hand fell to Poe’s shoulder blades and softly circled the scarring there, Hux thought back to those first days of the reconditioning process, how Poe’s eyes jolted open in a confused panic the first time FN-0406’s blade met his skin. Each mark told a story that Hux could delight in, over and over.

Lost in thought, he freed his cock from his pants and began coolly stroking himself, inching forward to gently push himself against Poe’s sleeping body. Propping up on one elbow, he leaned over to rest his chin on Poe’s upper arm as he watched the pilot wake up.

Hux’s cheeks flushed with amusement as Poe woke, the creeping horror of the situation broadcast over Poe’s face and through each muscle as it tensed beneath him. By the time Poe’s eyes locked with Hux’s, the General could feel Poe’s body shift carefully through the obvious pain, his numbed hands struggling to shove his captor away or at least _off_ before finally remembering his station. Poe stopped moving, looking up at Hux with a slightly vacant expression in his eyes, his gaze sliding away to stare at the door as he felt Hux’s cock rubbing across his ass.  

“Good morning, FN-5216. Nice of you to finally wake up. I’d like to thank you for your compliance last night.”

Poe stared straight ahead, his eyes losing focus.

“Your service to the First Order is to be commended, pet,” Hux cooed, pausing to kiss a line up Poe’s shoulder. “This is where you belong.” Were this not a moment between a captive and his rapist, it’d almost appear tender.

Hux rested his cheek on Poe’s arm for a few seconds before reaching over to turn Poe onto his back. He sat up and moved to kneel between the pilot’s legs, bending each at the knee for easier access. The sheets crunched beneath him, and he was irritated to see the smattering of dried blood. Hux glanced down at Poe, annoyed.

“You’ve made a mess, FN-5216. This is unacceptable,” he said, clapping a hand down on Poe’s chest. “Before we leave today you will replace and clean these sheets.”

“Yes, sir,” Poe replied, his voice weak.

“If I didn’t want you kept whole I could send you back to the Reconditioning Center on Anantapar, you know that, right? I could send you back there at any time if you displease me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I _should_ send you back there for ruining my morning. Because of you I now have to sit through an insufferable _meeting_ about this recent Stormtrooper crisis. What’s worse is you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“…N-no, sir.”

Hux sighed and drew his hands up to his chest as he hunched over Poe’s quivering body.

“Maybe I’ll tell you, someday. After we’ve destroyed the Resistance I’ll tell you who you were, and what you meant to them. How important you _were_. Maybe I’ll even let you go after that. Wouldn’t that be _funny_? Where would you even go? But for now…” Hux’s words trailed off as he slowly pushed himself into the pilot, letting out a long groan of satisfaction as Poe’s eyes closed tightly through the pain.

Poe’s head rolled back as he visibly willed his body not to move, trying to relax against the intrusion to the best of his ability. Still wounded from Hux’s assault the night before, he wasn’t able to calm his muscles as the agony hit deep within him.

“You’re so… quiet,” Hux moaned as he worked himself into a rhythm. “If you want to cry… you may cry...”

At Hux’s permission, Poe sobbed loudly, his mouth twisted in wordless misery as tears streamed down the sides of his face. The General’s face turned wild at the sound of it, grabbing at Poe’s chest for leverage as he pulled himself deeper and deeper.

“Oh pet… you feel… _oh stars_ ,” he groaned, his entire body flush from the exertion and pleasure of it. Hux slipped out once, briefly, so he could work his way back in. This was all a new experience, and he was learning what he liked as it came to him. When Poe’s cries no longer sated his lust, he tried a different approach.

“Permission to speak freely five-two-one-six…”

Poe met his eyes, confusion clear through the pain.

Hux offered again. “Go on. You won’t be punished. Speak your mind. _Tell me_.”

“…P-please… s-s-stop… please…” Poe pleaded, his eyes bloodshot and his lip split from biting down on it too hard.

Hux smiled as he kept pushing in and out of the pilot, the high of it almost overwhelming him. “Why should I stop?”

“It h-h-hurts… p-please. It hurts s-so much. P-please, s-sir…”

“Beg me to stop.”

“Please s-stop. Please,” Poe whispered, hovering near unconsciousness.

As Hux neared the edge, he asked once more, grabbing Poe by the hair and pulling him forward. “BEG ME,” he growled.

“ _PLEASE!”_ Poe wailed as Hux’s thrusts stuttered and stopped, locking eyes with Poe as he worked through his orgasm.

Once Hux had finished he released Poe’s hair, allowing the pilot to fall back onto the bed as he pulled out. The General replaced his own discarded pants and retrieved the cuff key from his night stand. Poe’s arms hung loose at his sides after they were freed. Hux moved his arm under Poe’s neck, pulling him towards his chest into something close to an embrace as they both struggled for breath. Poe stared at the ceiling, his eyes empty.

“Oh, five-two. We are going to have such fun. I almost missed that mouth of yours.”

Poe blinked. “I… I hate you.”

Hux glared at him, slapping him once across the cheek. “Permission to speak freely _revoked_. Go clean yourself up, you’re a wreck,” he sneered. “You may use the shower.”

Poe pulled himself off the bed and limped to the ‘fresher as Hux lay back to watch him go. When Poe was finished he silently removed the bed sheets and replaced them with a spare set he retrieved from the closet, gathering his Stormtrooper uniform and dressing himself while Hux showered. He waited at his post by the door until Hux was ready to leave.

\---

Finn brought Ellie to General Organa’s office, holding the girl’s hand in support as she explained how she had seen Poe and what his condition was. They were trying to gather as many details as they could before the Jedi arrived, hoping either Luke or Rey would be able to use it to reach Commander Dameron.

“And you’re sure it was him?” Leia asked, reaching forward to offer the young girl a strong cup of warm Ardees tea to calm her nerves.

Ellie took the drink, happily. “Yes ma’am, I’m sure. I remember… finding him attractive.” She blushed. “On the poster. Seeing him in real life was different, but unmistakable, ma’am.”

Leia looked at Finn, both exchanging a look of mixed relief that at least Poe wasn’t out getting shot at in the field.

“Ma’am? If I may?” Ellie asked. “I understand what he means to you. And, I know this entire Stormtrooper recovery operation was an effort to get him back. I just… I hope this revelation doesn’t stop the program. It’s meant the world to me and so many others. _You saved our lives_. I don’t know what the cost is to the Resistance, but you’re doing a lot of good here. And so, I hope it continues, even when we recover Commander Dameron, ma’am.”

Leia’s eyes softened as she reached out to the girl. “Sweet child, _of course_ we’ll continue the Stormtrooper program. You and Finn and countless others are the backbone of this Resistance. I’m honestly more ashamed that we didn’t take this route from the very beginning. You have my word that we’ll continue even when we get Commander Dameron back. Of course.”

Finn smiled and nodded at the General just as Luke and Rey arrived. The two Jedi introduced themselves to Ellie as they moved to sit down next to her.

“Rey, Luke,” Leia began, “what can we do with this new information? Is there any way to reach Commander Dameron?”

Rey sat forward, her eyes soft. “General, I haven’t been able to reach him, I… I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“What about Luke?” Leia asked. “Is it a matter of discipline with the Force?”

Luke shook his head. “No, of the two of us, Rey knew him better. She should have more luck reaching him.”

Finn and Ellie were observing the discussion quietly when Finn was struck with an idea. He stood up in excitement.

“Rey! How have you been calling out to him?”

“Finn, I… don’t know what you mean…?”

“Have you been using his name? ‘Poe’? Or ‘Commander Dameron’?”

“I’ve been calling to him using ‘Poe’, yes. Why?”

Catching on to Finn’s train of thought, Ellie stood to join him.

“That’s not his name right now,” she said, solemnly. “He may not remember that’s who he is. They wouldn’t call him any of his old names.”

Leia looked hurt. “You mean he would only know his Stormtrooper designation, don’t you?”

Ellie and Finn both nodded.

“Do you remember what they called him?” Rey asked, quietly.

“I only heard it once. Let me try to remember. It was FN-5… _something_ …” she pulled her head into her lap, gripping her hair as if she could physically pull the information out of herself. Luke rested a hand on her shoulder, guiding a small amount of Force through her. “…FN-5216, I believe. Yes, yes! That’s what General Hux called him.”

Finn turned to Rey in excitement, grabbing her hands and looking her straight in the eye. “Rey, you have his name. Is it enough? Can you reach him?”

“Finn, I’ll try.”

Determined, she moved to the back of Leia’s office and took a space on the floor, folding her legs and letting her eyes drift closed. Rey took deep, calming breaths to coax the Force through her, letting it dance through her body before sending it out like sonar. A few minutes passed in silence before her face crumpled slightly.

“Guys, I think… I don’t know, this _could_ be him? It’s very cold. I’m trying to brush up alongside him so he knows I’m a friend, but… I just don’t know. It doesn’t feel the same.”

Finn had seen reconditioned Stormtroopers before. He knew how broken they were when they came back. Softly, he implored her to keep trying.

Rey lightly nudged the feeling of Poe again, doing her best to get his attention without spooking him into closing off their fragile connection. _Shhhh_ , she whispered to him through the Force, _it’s okay, we’re your friends and we are here for you. Tell us where you are._ Poe’s feeling retreated at her voice, making itself small. _It’s okay, it’s okay,_ w _e love you, we are your friends. Tell us how to find you._ Rey began to feel herself losing contact, felt her connection slipping as she reached out with one more big push.

Silence.

She was desperately searching for him in a panic when she heard it, soft and distant at first as it quickly grew around her, the sound of him from all sides almost deafening through the Force.

Rey left a piece of herself there as a beacon before she cut the contact, coming back to the world coughing, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes locked to Finn, jumping into his arms and sobbing against his neck.

“Rey! What did you see? Did you find him?!”

“Finn it was _excruciating_ ,” she cried at him. “He’s barely himself. It was all I could do to hold on as he pleaded with me. Oh Finn, oh stars, Finn. We have to go get him. I know where he is, we have to go _now_.”

“Rey, did you talk to him? What did he say?!”

“He kept repeating the same thing, over and over… he’s screaming, I almost drown it in, _oh Finn_!”

“Rey, what did he say?”

“HELP.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe's point of view when Rey makes contact.

Poe stood at attention, hands at his sides with his back pressed up against a cold wall of the Star Destroyer’s central bridge. His fingers would still tingle after hours of standing in one position, but his feet and legs rarely ached anymore. Even the knots in his back where the scalpel had torn particularly deep into the muscle had softened into a persistent but dull twinge.

Or maybe he had blocked out the pain, always aware of how much worse it could be. The threat of returning to the Reconditioning Center was ever present, a clearly drawn line he didn’t dare test. Here he had endured months of agonizing nights under General Hux, but the days were pain-free if he acted correctly.

His days were routine and consisted primarily of following the General around as he poured over data or met with First Order leadership. Poe was never allowed to speak, had to be ready to move at a moment’s notice, and was only allowed to use the ‘fresher when Hux told him he could. While the role was mind-numbing, he was sometimes able to catch a stray thought or two about his life before he was a Stormtrooper; a droid, a glowing flower, a planet covered in sand. These images brought him close to his old life, and they didn’t hurt. He’d remembered the Resistance, a constant thorn in General Hux’s side, but any thoughts of it or faces he recalled erupted in a splitting headache too painful to challenge. He knew it was a conditioned response and that they had taken him from his life there, but with so much pain in his world that was out of his control he did his best to avoid the pain he could control.

There was no way he could escape anyway, at least not while he still wore the shock collar.

He was waiting for Hux to finish speaking with General Fennict when it happened, the creeping sharpness of _Resistance_ snapping at the nerves behind his eyes. He tried to bat it away as he had done so many times before, but was unable to find the source.

_Not a memory?_

He heard a girl calling for him. Trying to calm him down, reaching out. He _knew_ her, he was sure, but he couldn’t think about it, couldn’t fight the way his brain burned each time she pushed against him.

_I can’t. I CAN’T._

Poe struggled to hide from her, tried to throw up barriers and disappear entirely to protect himself. She kept pushing, _harder and harder_. He felt nauseous and dizzy, the pain of her intrusion threatening to throw him over the edge.

_Not here, it hurts too much. Please. He’ll see._

She pushed again, asking where he was. Kept insisting it was okay when it was _definitely not kriffing okay_. He tried to bite back the pain for as long as he could, silently clenching his fists and biting his lip under his Stormtrooper mask so General Hux wouldn’t see, wouldn’t notice that he was being torn apart. His legs felt boneless and he was shaking under the pressure of trying to hold himself together, muffling his cries like his life depended on it.

_Stop, please. I can’t. No more._

Though her presence burned through his mind like acid, underneath the agony of it he could tell that she was _good,_ warm and full of light. That they had probably been friends, back in his old life. She wanted to help.

_Maybe she could?_

Poe knew that he was reaching his physical and mental limit and that she wouldn’t stop. He would be punished, but he had to respond. There would be pain either way, an inescapable fact. Summoning the last of his energy, he fired back at the mysterious girl worming her way through the tender bits in his mind.

_HELP. HELP. HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELPHELPHELPHELPHELPHELPHELPHELP._

He cried out, dropping to his knees and clutching his head as the pain intensified behind his eyes. Then, as quickly as it had arrived, the pain lifted and was gone. Poe struggled to work through the aftershocks, trying to calm his trembling hands enough so that he could stand himself back up. He could see all eyes on the bridge turned to him, some lower techs looking on in horror while General Fennict appeared to regard him with disgust.

From the ground, Poe could only see General Hux’s boots as he stood over him.

_Shit._

He struggled to breathe but he knew the consequence of non-compliance, letting a late burst of adrenaline carry him back to his feet to face the General.

Hux’s eyes glistened with a barely-contained rage as he stood in silence in front of Poe, his hand gripping Poe’s arm like a vise. When he finally spoke, he used hushed tones laced with venom.

“My quarters. _Now_.”

Poe nodded, mustering the necessary “yes, sir” before removing himself from the eerily silent bridge. He could feel the shock collar heating up on his walk back to Hux’s quarters and he knew the General was fiddling with the control in an attempt to stress him out. It was working.

Poe waited at his post for three agonizingly long hours before General Hux returned. He entered without a word, removing his uniform and getting comfortable before finally addressing Poe. His words were curt, practiced.

“In all of my years of service I have _never_ been so humiliated. It is evident to me now that I did not make the consequences of insubordination clear enough to you, and that perhaps another visit to the Reconditioning Center would benefit you greatly.” He paused, his face as red as it had been hours ago. “Remove your armor. Boots, helmet, blaster. Place it in your quarters.”

Poe did as he was told, dread rolling off of him like sweat. Maybe whatever Hux had planned would kill him and he could finally be free.

The General pulled out the pair of stun cuffs from beside his bed, locking Poe’s wrist with one as he attached the other to the leg of his desk, forcing Poe to his knees as he did so. Hux’s first punch landed on his cheekbone, splitting the skin. Poe didn’t register the second, third, fourth hits, his mind already miles away, his mental escape from the abuse a familiar trail. By the time Hux finished, Poe was a bloody wreck at his feet, coughing up blood and struggling to keep his head up. He only caught a glimpse of the collar remote in Hux’s hand before the electricity coursed unforgivingly through his body, carrying him into darkness.

Poe awoke several hours later, splayed out face down on the floor of Hux’s quarters, his arm still cuffed to the leg of the desk. He felt the gummy stick of drying blood as he pulled his face off of the carpet, collapsing back down to catch his breath before getting very far. Hux was asleep in the bed above him, seemingly indifferent to Poe’s pain once again. As with everything else in his life now, there was nothing he could do to improve his situation, he just had to take whatever he was dealt. He stopped bothering to cry about it a long time ago.

The flicker of warm light in the back of his mind made itself known as Poe was finally giving in to unconsciousness. He hadn’t noticed it before, and didn’t remember the mysterious girl leaving anything behind when she severed their connection.

_Where else could it have come from? It sounded like her. Felt good._

From somewhere far away she was soothing his pain and calming his nerves.

 _It’s okay, I’m here. We will help you_ , she said, her voice like a healing river through his head. _Do you remember who I am? Who you are?_

_Can’t think about that. Hurts. Hux sees. Punished._

_Your name is Poe and I’m Rey and we are your friends. We are coming for you. Stay safe for just a bit longer._

Poe wanted to laugh at the thought _. Nowhere here safe. Please hurry._

_We will hurry, Poe. I will be here to help until the real Rey can connect again. I will try to make the connection hurt less. Be strong, Poe. We love you._

The light dimmed and faded, leaving a cool buzz of tranquility where it had burned before. Poe let his head rest back on the floor, blinking in disbelief that help could be on its way for him. He didn’t know how long they’d take to get to him, but the promise of rescue was one he could hold on to like a lifeline.

_Finally. Please let them find me._

He scooted as close to the desk as he could, pulling his chained arm towards his chest as he curled in against himself. A glint from an object on the floor against the wall caught his eye, the soft light from Hux’s blinking communicator bouncing off something metallic that had fallen down the back of the desk. Poe pulled himself together the best he could, reaching out towards it and managing to grab it. He turned the item over in his hands, thinking he surely was hallucinating such good fortune. He waited for the shock collar to roar back to life, for Hux to be standing above him, laughing at his pain, just like before.

No pain came.

_Yes. YES._

The sound of Hux rustling in the sheets above him jolted Poe back to the present. He took one final look at Hux’s knife before quietly stashing it between the mattress and bunk frame underneath the bed.

Poe rolled back down to the floor, curling back into himself for comfort. Though his entire body ached, for the first time since his capture he felt hope. He smiled as he drifted off to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My name is Poe Dameron. _Of the Resistance._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. My brain was filled with non-creative pudding.

Finn paced, his hands clenching into fists as he stormed through the room. Rey remained seated, her head in her hands as she stared at the floor in confusion.

“You brought me here to _find him_ and I _found him_ and we are doing _nothing_ about it,” she said.

Leia rose out of her chair and placed a pitying hand on Rey’s shoulder.

“Rey, sweetheart. It’s a _Star Destroyer_. Even if we had the resources or personnel, they’re notoriously heavily guarded and full of First Order leadership. Not to mention, General Hux would likely have ample time to just kill Poe before we got to him.”

Finn growled behind them, startling the group as his fist connected with the wall.

“So what now?” he snarled. “We know where he is and we just leave him there? _Light a candle for the great Commander Poe Dameron, everyone! His life is a nightmare but there’s nothing to do about it so carry on as usual_! That’s bantha shit and you know it.”

“It _is_ bantha shit,” Luke offered, “and it’s the only choice we have right now. I’m sorry that it seems impossible to get him back. Maybe with time opportunity will present itself, but with the resources we have now, all we can do is wait.”

Rey lifted her head, her eyes filled with tears. “He’s… he’s suffering _so much_ , Master Luke.”

“Stay with him, Rey. Do what you can.”

The young Jedi nodded in solemn affirmation. “I will.”

Ellie rose out of her chair and walked over to where Finn was muttering curses against the wall, pulling him close to her and wrapping her arms around his trembling body. He rested his head on her shoulder and cried.

\---

Poe awoke to a boot in the ribs. His first thought was that it was lazy, more of a courtesy kick than one meant as punishment.

“Wake up,” Hux muttered above him, yawning as he wiped the sleep out of his eyes. He watched Poe struggle to stand, impeded by the cuff around his wrist. “Oh, right,” he quipped, lazily untethering the pilot. He yanked him up and pushed him forward towards the ‘fresher.

The two showered in silence, with Poe maintaining a safe distance from the General. While he could tell Hux was still seething from his actions the day prior, he appreciated the wide berth he was given.

Hux finally approached him as they were dressing for the day, pinning the pilot to the wall with an arm firmly against his chest.

“If you embarrass me again today, I will have you sent back to Reconditioning. Are we clear?”

Poe nodded, adding, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. I want you to spend the rest of the day thinking about how you’ll make it up to me,” he added with a slight grin and a tug at Poe’s shock collar. Poe nodded, nervously donning his helmet.

The rest of the day carried on without incident, though by the time they returned to Hux’s quarters Poe was thoroughly exhausted. His head was pounding from the wounds sustained the night before, and he was sure one of his fingers had been broken.

“Well, five-two-one-six? I’ve given you a day’s worth of time to come up with a way to repay me for that indiscretion in front of your superiors. Do not disappoint me.”

“Yes, sir,” Poe replied, removing his armor and stripping off his clothes. He knelt in front of the General, carefully unbuttoning his pants and removing his flaccid cock, coaxing it into stiffness with his tongue. Without hesitation he wrapped his mouth around it, sucking at him like an enthusiastic lover would. Above him, Hux moaned deeply. Poe took each of the General’s hands and placed them on the back of his own head so Hux could control the pace and deepness of each thrust.

“Mmmmm. Good, five-two. This is… good,” Hux gasped through pleasured breaths.

As he neared climax, Poe extricated himself from Hux’s grasp, moving himself to the bed and bending over with his ass in the air.

“Yes, this is quite good,” Hux responded, thrusting into him roughly, the lubrication from Poe’s mouth barely managing to keep it from hurting too much. Poe grunted loudly, amplifying each pained noise as he knew it would help Hux climax.

Hux increased his pace, appreciating every sound he pulled out of his pilot. As he neared his orgasm, he stopped to look at the strange sensation he felt in his leg. Poe watched as Hux’s eyes traveled down his own body, settling on Poe’s hand wrapped around the knife handle protruding from his upper thigh.

“Five-two what is the meaning of th–” he began, struggling to find the words as Poe slowly dragged the knife out, flipping Hux onto his back in one fluid motion. Poe straddled the General, hesitating for only a second before plunging the blade straight through Hux’s throat.

As Hux lay there, feet hanging off the bed and hands scrambling to grasp at the knife blade buried fatally deep through his own neck, Poe towered over him, feeling empowered for the first time in months.

“My name is _Poe Dameron_. _Of the Resistance_ ,” he coughed out, secretly impressed at his own ability to form a complete sentence after such a long time in near-silence.

He grabbed the handle and pulled, sighing in relief as Hux’s blood shot upwards, painting his bedsheets in a marvelous crimson. Poe watched the light drain from Hux’s eyes, holding down Hux’s wrists as he struggled to cover the wound.

Once Hux’s thrashing ended, Poe cried openly. The monster that had been tormenting him for months was finally dead, the weight of that rolling off his shoulders like water. His victory was short-lived as he glanced around the room, reminded of the fact that he was still trapped in the middle of a Star Destroyer, property of one of the most powerful Generals in the First Order, even if that General happened to be sluggishly bleeding out in front of him.

In a panic, he reached out to the only person he knew that could help him: Rey.

No answer. He touched the part of his mind where he last felt her presence, hoping some trace of her was still able to respond. When he couldn’t find her, he moved to the ‘fresher to clean himself of Hux’s blood and the feel of him between his legs, furiously scrubbing at himself to remove any trace of that horror’s hands on his skin.

As he finished he felt a sharp pain echo through his mind, reverberating through his skull like a plasma bolt.

_Poe?! Did you call me? It’s Rey, I’m here!_

Her essence in his head hurt, doubling him over from the pain of it. Still, he was grateful that he had someone to talk to.

_REY! HELP. HUX DEAD. TRAPPED._

Poe cringed in pain, grabbing his head as she rooted herself a line of communication.

_Poe! How is Hux dead? Are you sure?_

Pain.

_Killed. I killed. Help. Plan? Rescue?_

Poe regretted having asked her a question, hoping for a moment or two to recover from the sharp agony of their exchange.

_Poe, I don’t know! Where are you within the Star Destroyer? Can you sneak out?_

He let out a gasp, drinking in lungfuls of air before responding.

_Can’t. Collar. Will see._

Part of him knew there was nothing they could do while he was stuck deep in the bowels of a First Order ship. At that moment, he knew what he needed to do, the reality of it flayed open in front of him. After regaining his composure, he responded.

_Rey. Only option._

_What Poe?! What is the only option?_

More pain, almost unbearable.

_Find me. Anantapar._

_Poe, what?! Where’s Anantapar? Don’t go!_

_Have to go. Please. Hurry._

Poe closed their line of communication, nearly sobbing at the feeling of relief. Glancing down once more at Hux’s corpse he smiled, grinning ear to ear in anxiety as he pulled the rest of his armor on.

He planted his hands in Hux’s blood, coating them enough to smear over himself, the red of the gore standing in stark contrast on the white of the Stormtrooper armor. He holstered his weapon, hoping to appear as non-threatening as possible. He knew what was coming.

With a deep breath, Poe opened Hux’s door and stepped outside, raising his hands in surrender.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anantapar.

It took the Resistance five days to find Anantapar, the outer region moon missing from all current known star maps. They were about to change tactics when someone let the name slip in front of R2-D2, the droid beeping in curiosity as to why they’d want to go there. Leia made a mental note to follow up with R2 and his shady knowledge stores once they returned.

As word of the moon and their mission spread through the base it was impossible to stem the excitement from both the established recruits and the more recently freed Stormtroopers. The plan involved another attack on a First Order site, this time as a liberation mission for one of the Resistance’s own, supposedly one who had been reconditioned. Every Stormtrooper alive knew to fear that word, so all were ready to help recover someone doomed to that fate.

In the end, General Organa was forced to turn down hundreds of volunteers for the mission, citing a need to protect and maintain their own base while they were gone. She decided on a tight squad of 40 Stormtroopers, Jess and Snap to fly them there, as well as herself, both Jedi, and Finn to lead the ground assault. For the first time for many of them, the former Stormtroopers were going into battle with practical Resistance armor. More than one remarked at how nice it was to be able to move freely and see clearly for once.

There was a nervous energy in the shuttle as they neared their destination, no one knowing what exactly to expect from the unknown moon and secret First Order base. Leia hoped they hadn’t walked straight into a trap.

Finn and Rey both stood silently, hands clasped together as the shuttle landed on the cool blue rock.

She squeezed his hand a bit in support, turning to meet his eyes. “We’ll find him, Finn. He’ll be alright.”

“Can you feel him here, Rey?”

“I can’t pinpoint him here _for sure_ but I can feel him. Faintly, in general. Ever since he cut me off after killing Hux it’s been harder to reach him. He feels cold,” she responded. “He’s… we need to get to him.”

Finn knew what she meant. He straightened his shoulders and turned back to stare ahead at the shuttle door, watching it open slowly.

Surface scans found a couple dozen faint heat signatures coming from far below a lone building on the north side of the moon. From the outside, the building looked unassuming, a small warehouse or old factory perhaps. The front of the building offered a single door with no windows and no guards. The lock on the door was quickly removed and the team slowly filed through, making their way down a long, winding staircase in a near-pitch black hallway.

The team encountered the first two guards nearly thirty stories underground, the stun blasters silencing them before they were able to sound an alarm. Rey and Finn approached the unconscious Stormtroopers, the sight of them nearly causing Finn to wretch.

“FN-4729. I… worked with him,” he explained, one hand on the wall as he was bent at the waist trying to calm his own breathing. “He was the one guarding Poe when I helped him escape the Finalizer. I guess they reconditioned him for that.” He felt flooded with guilt.

Leia holstered her stun blaster to place a sympathetic arm on his shoulder as she encouraged him back to the mission. The two reconditioned Stormtroopers were cuffed and sedated and tied together so the team could continue forward.

Eight more pairs were brought down before they made their way to a large, black windowless door. The other side of the door felt cold as Luke rested his hands on it and closed his eyes.

“Here,” he whispered.

Rey had found Finn’s hand again as they watched the former Stormtroopers slowly unlock the door and push it open.

No one was expecting the room laid out before them; a too-bright hallway spreading out to the left and right. Each direction was lined with rows of lockers and they could feel and see their breath forming clouds in the frigid air.

Finn wasted no time, walking towards the first locker and reading the number plate out loud. “FN-6673,” he said, peering into the small window above it. He could see a girl looking back at him, shivering as she pleaded to him with her eyes.

“There are people in these!” he yelled in shock, moving to open the door as the rest of the squad and team fanned out to unlock other prisoners. “Find FN-5216! He’s 5216!” he shouted, his voice cracking slightly.

Confident that the team would take care of all of them, he made his way down the left hallway, quickly scanning each locker number plate.

‘FN-5216’ was one of the last in the row.

Finn stopped in front of it, his breath caught in his chest as he moved to look through the window.

Empty.

“NO!” he shouted, banging his fist against the durasteel door. “Where is he, you monsters?! _Where the kriff is he_?!”

He punched at the locker in frustration and panic over and over, nearly bloodying his knuckles before Rey grabbed his arm and tried to calm him.

“Finn, I can feel him. He’s _here_. We will find – ”

Almost as if on cue, wide doors at the end of the hallway swung open towards them and two helmetless Stormtroopers stopped their forward movement to stare back at the unexpected chaos in front of them. They were dragging a body, arms cuffed behind his back and a fresh upper chest wound lightly dripping blood onto the floor beneath them, his curly black hair matted from sweat. The prisoner raised his head to see why they’d stopped, his bloodshot eyes meeting Finn’s.

_Poe._

“POE!” Finn cried out, landing direct stun hits to the chest on each Stormtrooper before they had time to react. Without support, Poe crumpled to the ground. Finn and Rey were at his side instantly, pouring over him in concern and relief.

Finn wanted to do nothing more than wrap his arms around his friend but held himself back when he noticed Poe’s condition.

“Poe –! Oh my god, Poe, what did they do to you?!” he asked, gently holding the pilot’s face in his hands. He turned Poe’s head up to look at him and his heart broke watching Poe struggle to focus. Finn wasn’t even sure Poe recognized him until he heard a choked off “Finn…?” escape his lips.

The victory was short-lived, his name causing Poe to double over in agony.

“Rey, what’s wrong with him?!” Finn asked, panic rising as Poe writhed in pain below him.

Her name seemed to make it even worse.

“The reconditioning, Finn. I need to…” she trailed off, placing her palm on his forehead as he went limp in their arms. “I’m sorry, Poe. We will make it stop.”

“What did you do?!” he asked, frantically.

“Let him sleep for now. They conditioned this response in him, I think to make him keep his mind off of us at all times. With so many of us here it would have been too painful for him to handle at once. I’ll fix this, Finn. I promise you _I will fix it_.”

At some point in the commotion, Luke and Leia had joined them, with Leia near tears at the sight of recovering Poe alive. Luke bent down and placed a hand against the shock collar, disabling and unlatching it for the first time in months. It hit the ground with a grotesque clang.

“Rey, Finn, are you able to get Commander Dameron back to the shuttle?” Leia asked. “We have a lot more prisoners to release but this one warrants special care.”

“Of course! You’re sure you don’t need more of our help?” Rey replied.

“No, we’ve got it from here. Thank you. Make sure he’s safe,” Leia said, smiling weakly.

Finn nodded at her, thankfully. He gently pulled Poe into his arms, cradling his body as he and Rey made their way back to the shuttle.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby bird recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lack of credentials and access at my new job means lots of free time to write and another new chapter today. <3

The familiar buzz of his chrono roused Finn from his brief sleep, the red of the ‘02:00’ digits blinking back at him unapologetically. From his docking station in the corner, BB-8 powered himself on, rolling to the side of the bed where Finn’s arm was hanging limply as he yawned and kicked the covers off.

“I’m up, I’m up BB-8. I’m up…” he sighed, shuffling into a pair of boots and throwing on Poe’s jacket on his way out the door.

The walk to the medbay was cold and dimly-lit, an obvious indication that no one in their right mind should be awake and moving around at such an hour. While it was strange at first, after three weeks his early morning trek was routine. He was even beginning to learn a bit of binary, mostly just different versions of ‘tired’ and ‘dark’, but most importantly, ‘Poe’. Well, not exactly ‘Poe’, more ‘Cubby’, BB-8’s nickname for his pilot. When asked why he referred to Poe as that name, he boiled down BB-8’s defensive beeps to something resembling ‘inside joke, not for Finn’.

He lifted his access badge to the medbay door, buzzing himself and the droid in. Poe was sleeping peacefully when they arrived, of course, and Finn felt the familiar pang of guilt at having to wake him. Still, he gave himself a moment before reaching over to rouse the pilot. Part of Finn still couldn’t believe that they had recovered Poe, and shockingly fully intact; far too many of the Stormtroopers recovered from the Reconditioning Center had been missing at least one limb or body part. It turned out that Hux’s twisted affection for Poe might have been the only force keeping him whole. Finn tried not to think about it too much. He didn’t enjoy the panic attacks that usually followed that line of thought.

“Poe,” he whispered, “time to wake up.”

Finn found that Poe roused easier and with minimal stress if he gently held one of his hands as he spoke to him. Poe’s only trigger was violence, regardless of the location on his body. Finn didn’t know if that was better or worse than something more specific.

Poe woke to Finn hovering above him and they exchanged sleepy smiles.

“Hey, Poe. How ya feelin’, buddy?” he asked, quietly preparing the bacta strips so as not to startle Poe too much.

“Better, buddy. Better,” Poe responded.

“Think you’re up for another session?”

Poe nodded, his smile slipping only slightly.

“Okay, good. We’ll get this out of the way first and then I’ll apply the bacta, okay?”

Finn waited for Poe’s vocalized “yes” before slipping the drug into his IV, watching as Poe’s body relaxed fully.

“Ready?”

Poe nodded again, his right hand bundling the bedsheet in preparation.

“ _Finn_ ”

“Next,” Poe replied, flinching slightly.

“ _Rey_ ”

He let out a soft breath. “Next.”

“ _Leia_ ”

Poe gasped, briefly, his hand grasping tighter to the bedsheet he had pulled close to him. Taking a moment to recover, he replied. “Next.”

“ _Jedi_ ”

A choked out sob escaped his throat, his knuckles white as he balled his hands into fists. Within moments, the sensation had passed. “Next.”

“ _Resistance_ ”

Poe’s eyes screwed tight, his brow scrunched up in pain. A few deliberate breaths later and he looked up at Finn, a smile once more gracing his face.

“Hurt a bit less this time!”

Finn beamed at him. “That’s great, buddy! You know exactly what I want to hear. A few more sessions with Rey and you should be good as Guba.”

Poe squeezed Finn’s hand in endearment as he flipped over onto his stomach, allowing Finn to place the long strip of bacta around the burn on his neck. Finn applied the rest of the strips to Poe’s shoulders and back, using a special bacta formula designed to calm and minimize scar tissue. He rubbed Poe’s arm as he sat with him, softly humming an old Yavin IV folk song Jess had taught him.

Finn had spent every four hours of the past three weeks in this routine, watching over and caring for Poe as if he was a tiny baby Rdava-bird. Other pilots would sometimes help, offering Finn the chance at a solid eight hours of sleep for once, but he always refused. Finn’s medical training had proved to be an invaluable asset in Poe’s recuperation and he’d be damned if he was going to let someone else be there to sooth Poe through his recovery.

“Is this what it felt like, Finn?” Poe asked, working through Finn’s name like a particularly tough piece of meat. “When you joined the… _Resistance_?” he choked out.

“I don’t know, Poe, what do you mean?”

Poe closed his eyes, nestling his head into a comfortable position against his pillow.

“It feels… lighter. Coming away from something like that. Like a constant relief. I know none of us is necessarily ‘safe’ but I feel safe here.”

“Yeah, Poe. It was something like that. I think I first felt that way when I got back to the Resistance base and saw you hop out of Black One. Like, beating unbeatable odds. Which you certainly did,” he said, moving his arm to rub Poe’s lower back.  

Poe hummed up at him, the mixture of the bacta and the IV drip crowning him king of relaxation.

“Gonna have to tell me about all these ex-Stormtroopers I’ve seen running around the base. If any of ‘em can fly I want ‘em in my squad.”

“Pretty sure you’re still entitled to first pick, Commander Dameron,” Finn replied.

Poe nodded and smiled. “Hey Finn, could you… could you say my name again?”

“Commander Dameron,” Finn said, using his best propaganda holovid voice. “ _Commander Poe Dameron, of the Resistance_! _Here to protect the integrity of this galaxy from the scum and villainy of the First Order_.”

“My name doesn’t hurt anymore,” he offered. “I think… I think I’ll be able to _beat_ this, Finn.”

“Doesn’t surprise me one bit, Commander. Now, get some sleep. I’ll be back to change that bacta out in another four hours.”

Finn rose to leave, his movement halted by Poe’s gentle grip on his wrist.

“Thank you again, Finn. For this. And everything. You… saved my life. You keep saving my life. Or, you’re helping me get my life back. Thank you.”

“Always, Poe. Always.” The two shared a moment in silence before Poe released his wrist, and Finn moved to kiss his cheek. “Now sleep, you menace. I’ll see you soon.”

Poe yawned and closed his eyes. “Love you, Finn,” he said without pain.

“Love you too, Poe.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery.

Poe ran.

The crisp, early morning air bit with every breath, straining his lungs and drying out his throat. He could feel his pulse pounding underneath his jaw, his heart racing in his chest, shoes bouncing off duracrete and dirt and back to duracrete. His feet and bones ached with the contact of it, a dull pain that radiated up his legs and settled into his sides in sharp bursts.

He had never felt more alive.

General Organa was the first to let him know how long he’d been gone, doing her best to cushion the shock of it.

Five months away from the Resistance. Five months of torture. Five months of stress. Five months of fear. Five months of abuse. Five months of agony. Five months without control.

Now that he was home, nothing was ever going to ground him again. He loved feeling the blood coursing through his veins, loved that he could speak openly, loved that he could stretch his arms and legs out. He had inquired about the possibility of upgrading to a larger bed, which of course was immediately approved. After it was installed, most mornings Finn found him splayed out over it, hands and legs shooting off in all directions.

The general worry around the base had been what kind of Poe they’d be getting back; had the conditioning taken everything from him? Would he remember who they were? Would he still be able to fly?

Their concerns seemed almost funny, in retrospect, considering the constant blur that had become Commander Dameron. If he wasn’t with Finn or seeing to his duties then he was running, and if he wasn’t running, he was flying. The jokes came back easy between Poe and his pilots, like he had been on vacation the entire time he was gone.  

_Blue Squadron, I show you at eight hundred and forty-two klicks too low on approach. Has Snap been loading you guys up on puffcake in my absence?_

_Very funny, Black Leader. We all can’t be as svelte and tiny as you, you know._

_Ah, I can’t take all the credit. Gotta thank the First Order boot camp for that one. Anyone interested in signing up?_

_Not on your life, Black Leader!_

_Ha! Not quite my life. Those thugs aren’t that good!_

It was like he hadn’t been taken at all. There were still a few scars that didn’t quite heal properly, and sometimes he’d slip away, just _slightly_ , lost in the sanctuary of silence. Overall, though, Poe Dameron was back, louder and more affectionate and more driven than ever.

General Organa hadn’t expected much from his return, considering his ordeal. At most, she thought, he’d want to resume his Commander duties. She was only briefly surprised when he expressed an interest in the Stormtrooper program.

Poe would meet with every new defector, making a special effort for the holdouts and victims of reconditioning. He’d sit in the hallway across from the holding cells, telling his story freely and answering any questions they had. He’d talk up the Resistance, its virtues, their mission. By the end of a week the cells were completely empty, save for one at the end of the hall.

He did all he could for FN-0005, honestly. Sat with her for hours as she tried to pick away at his defenses, listened patiently while she tried to trigger him with taunts and snide comments. Poe could tell she was hurting inside, torn apart from the life she was supposed to lead and the type of person she was supposed to be. They reached a guarded respect near the end, in the days before she broke off a piece of the gifted music player and traced her own throat with it.

Poe understood. Finn couldn’t.  

They decided to hold a service, just the two of them, before the rest of the base woke up. For Five, for the girl who had been FN-5216, for the lives Poe took during reconditioning, and for all the others along the way.

They walked together to the ocean side a few miles from the Resistance base, Finn gripping tightly to the small bag of ashes.

“…This could’ve been _you_ , Poe. Or _me_. Or any of us. We couldn’t save her. Why couldn’t we save her?” Finn asked as they turned the bag over and let the wind carry the ashes out over the water.

“I mean,” Poe offered, “maybe we _did_?”

Finn turned to look up at him, hands covered in ash and eyes soft with regret.

“Look,” Poe continued, “that life isn’t for anyone. Well, maybe for the people who join up by choice. The monsters. The Huxes of the world.” Finn expected the name to elicit a reaction from the pilot. It didn’t. “I can understand her struggling with a lifetime of those expectations, and the safety and familiarity of it. You really are one in a million, Finn.”

“We’ve had over 800 defections since the program started, Poe.”

“Yeah, but you were the first, weren’t you?”

Finn couldn’t help but nod, once again charmed into agreeing with Poe’s correctness.

They stood at the shore in silence for a few minutes, watching the sky paint itself in golden reds and yellows. Finn finally spoke up, and Poe was happy to see a smile rising on his face.

“We survived, didn’t we, Poe.”

“We did. We survived and the First Order failed. Felt bad at first but it feels pretty good now, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Finn answered, nodding in agreement. “I bet we could get them all out, if we tried hard enough. All of the Stormtroopers trapped there.”

“I bet you’re right. I bet we could bring down the entire empire that way.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“I’d say it’s worth a shot. You going to be the one to suggest it to General Organa?”

“I’d love to, if I can survive the long walk back to base.”

Poe laughed. “Walk? Who said anything about _walking_ back? Buddy, we’re running.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I don’t have a humorous bone in my body, Finn. Look at how serious my face is at all times. And besides, it’s easy, with practice. You just have to keep breathing and you’re aces.”

Poe demonstrated, placing his hands on his chest as he took exaggerated breaths. “See? Deep breath in, deep breath out.”

“Thank you, Poe. I know how to breathe.”

He jabbed at Finn’s shoulder as a friendly taunt. “Alright, alright. Hotshot. In that case… _race you_!”

Poe took off in a sprint towards the dunes, with Finn hanging back momentarily to watch him go. He smiled to himself as he practiced his breaths, no longer feeling the suffocating tightness in his chest that had been with him since Poe was taken.

_… breathe in…_

_… breathe out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END. 
> 
> Thanks to all who took the time to read this. Your support means the world to me. <3


End file.
